


Kizuna

by Kiraynn



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Turtlecest, too many characters to name them all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-14 00:24:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 32,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3401645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiraynn/pseuds/Kiraynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Under Emperor Oroku Saki's rule, all mutants are treated as slaves and bound to serve the humans who chose them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything.

The Imperial City was a place of power and beauty. The only access was over a tall, thick stone bridge that stretched over crystal-clear waters. Anywhere that you stood inside the city, you could easily see the pure white of the snowcapped mountains in the distance.

At the heart of the city sat an enormous palace, constructed with pillars and peaks and decorated with statues and carvings of massive dragons and armed immortal soldiers. It had once housed the Emperor Hamato Touma and his family, known all throughout the land for their kindness and fair treatment. Under Emperor Touma’s rule everyone was equal, from the large population of humans to the smaller groups of mutants that called the city home. 

But all that changed during the dark day known as The Massacre, when the Empire was attacked by the cruel and vindictive Oroku clan. It was said that the streets ran red with blood as the usurpers murdered the Hamatos and the numerous part of the population that attempted to fight back. Upon taking control of the throne they immediately enforced changes. Over the last two decades the mutants were forced into slavery; bound to humans at young ages and forced to share their life duties. For those chosen by the highest ranking members of society, that meant vigorous training which would be used as protection in any situation necessary. Like Bodyguards. For the lower ranking citizens that meant toiling away in the fields and assisting in the markets. 

Every act of crime, from as small as stealing a loaf of bread to as large as murder was punishable by several means depending on Emperor Saki’s mood. If he was feeling generous, the criminal simply spent some time in the cold, dank prison cells. If Saki was feeling amused, they were sent to the Games. And if he was feeling particularly cruel, then the sentenced was put to death often by Saki himself. 

Unfortunately, the unlucky mutant that was these humans’ ‘Bond’, or Kizuna, was forced to share their fate even if they had no part in the crime. That was a law that had never really affected Raphael until the infamous day several weeks ago then his own bonded had landed himself in trouble.

Once part of the respected and noble Elite Guard at his human’s side, he was forced not to lose his life for Casey’s transgression, but instead to suffer the humiliation of taking part in the only real form of public entertainment to be found in the Empire. The Games.

“You’re such a bonehead,” Raphael grumbled at his friend across from him for the umpteenth time, idly twirling one of his sais. “It’s your fault we’re in this mess.”

“You remind me of that every chance you get,” Casey shot back, just as irritable. His whole body ached, clothes torn in places and stained with blood. It wasn’t anything life-threatening thankfully, just painful.

“Only because it’s true, idiot. Of all the humans to be stuck with I had to get you.”

“Hey it could be worse. You could be Hun’s Kizuna.”

Okay that was at least true. As annoying as Casey could be sometimes, Raphael was damn glad that he was at his side instead of that overgrown monkey’s. “At least he’s smart enough not to piss off the Emperor.”

Casey snorted. “Everyone pisses him off, Raph. It was only a matter of time before it was my turn.”

That was definitely true enough, too. Emperor Oroku Saki had a well-known temper, and was referred to by both enemies and his own people as The Shredder. The name was lived up to as he had no qualms about using blades to torture anyone who had the misfortune of being on his bad side no matter who they happened to be. Thankfully in Casey and Raphael’s case, Saki had decided to go a different route with them.

Casey and Raphael weren’t the first of the Elite Guard to end up fighting on nearly a daily basis for the entertainment of the Empire, but they had been the most recent. 

“Besides,” Casey’s voice turned too cheery for someone in pain, “it ain’t all bad.”

Raphael followed the human’s blue gaze to the source of his sudden happiness: the red-haired healer that was making her way over to them. Her approach was like the sound of thunder in the distance, warning of an approaching storm. Her green eyes were dark with a combination of worry and irritation, thin body stiff and hands clenched into fists around the medicinal supplies she carried. 

Beside her was her own Kizuna, a sympathetic look on the mutant turtle’s face as he bypassed the humans and set his attention on Raphael.

“Casey’s going to get an earful,” he sighed, using his own supplies to immediately go to work cleaning up the emerald terrapin’s wounds.

“Doesn’t he always?” Raph smirked. He winced. “Ouch, Donnie! Easy on the eye.”

“You’re lucky that sword didn’t hit you a little more to the left,” Donatello snorted, dabbing at the bloody slash that nearly severed Raphael’s red mask. “Or you wouldn’t have an eye left to complain about.”

Raph shrugged, unconcerned. He’d had his number of close calls while in the Elite, so it wasn’t the first time he’d suffered the near loss of something vital. Donnie finished with his head and Raphael obediently raised his arm so that the wound on his bicep could be attended to next.

“You seemed like you were distracted today,” Donatello mused, rubbing some poultice on the cut. Thankfully it wasn’t seriously deep. 

Raphael snorted. “Don’t be stupid. What would I possibly be distracted by, while there’s a sharp metal object swinging at me?”

“A certain terrapin in the Emperor’s box, maybe?”

His mind immediately pictured the one that his friend was talking about. Leaf-green skin, a muscular body, twin katana strapped to his back and a blue mask around his eyes. “Like there’s anything about that Pet to be distracted by. Especially when I’m involved in a little matter of fighting for my life!”

The annoyance was clear in his voice, so Donatello didn’t push the subject. But one would have to be blind not to see how Raphael’s attention had almost constantly shifted between the fight and the Emperor’s box. Princess Angel had refused to ever watch the Games again after the last brutal death that occurred within them several weeks prior, and since she was never there neither was her Kizuna. So Leonardo had to be the only reason for Raphael’s attention not being where it was needed most.

It was a surefire way for the sai wielding warrior to be killed. While Donatello knew Leonardo, they weren’t often in contact because their Kizunas were from different walks of society. Leonardo had been chosen by the Crowned Princess Karai, and so had to be constantly at her side within the palace walls. The only times Donnie saw him was when Karai needed April’s attention for something or other, and those were few and far between. 

“Hey, Donnie. You in there?” Raphael’s hand waved in front of his face, pulling Donatello from his musings. “I think you’re finished.”

“Oh, sorry,” he quickly tied off the bandage he’d been staring blankly at. “That should do until the next time you decide it would be fun to try to catch a dagger with your arm. Might I suggest next time you move out of the way?”

“I’ll try to remember that,” Raphael replied dryly.

He grinned. “Just don’t hurt yourself thinking too hard.”

“Oh, real funny. Why do I even like you?”

“Because I’m the only one who can patch you up. Humans take care of humans, and mutants take care of mutants.”

“Ow, ow, ow!” Casey yelped. “That leg’s still attached to me, woman!”

“Not because you didn’t try to lose it!” April snarled back. “Now sit still, you big baby!”

“Stop trying to torture me, and I will!”

“Well, they’re supposed to at least,” Donatello sighed, he and Raphael sharing an exasperated look.

The exchange was nothing new. April was a gifted and kind Healer but something about Casey got under her skin. She knew that he had a difficult life but she had seen him fight and knew that he was taking way too many unnecessary risks. He wasn’t cocky, just somewhat oblivious to his own mortality and it both worried and infuriated her. Besides, he wasn’t just taking his own life in his hands with such stupid antics, but Raphael’s as well. 

If only there was a way to get the Games cancelled forever. Then great warriors like Casey, Raphael and everyone else who was forced to compete wouldn’t have to gamble their lives just to give the Emperor Saki something to smirk over.

April finished with Casey’s leg and gave him some herbs for the pain, then made her way over to the two turtles. “I think we’re done here,” she said, giving Raphael a gentle smile. “I see Don took good care of you.”

“He always does,” Raphael replied, clapping the purple-masked one on the shoulder.

She nodded. “Good. Be careful out there next time, alright? Come on, Donatello. Let’s go.”

“See you later, Raph,” Donnie waved to his friend, then followed the woman from the room.

“Bye April!” Casey grinned widely. “She wants me.”

Raphael rolled his eyes. “Bonehead.”

 

 

Leonardo leaned his hands on the railing; though his eyes were on the millions of tiny stars sparkling in the sky he didn’t really see them. His mind instead ran through everything that had happened that day, picking apart each and every event to try to figure out what he could have done differently. It was a habit he had picked up during his training to be Karai’s Kizuna. Because she was next to be in line to rule the Empire he was ever pressured to make sure that she stayed safe. So by analyzing everything that happened at day’s end he could better ensure he was ready to correct any failures he might have made.

He was aware of the fact that the Bonded of the lesser members of society envied those that worked and lived in the Palace. They called them ‘Pets’, and believed incorrectly that to live within the stone walls meant that even the slaves were surrounded by comfort and hospitality. But really Leo knew it was one of those situations where everyone else’s life seemed easier than your own.

He sensed the presence of another, but their familiar scent put him at ease almost immediately. 

“Reflecting again, Little One?”

Leo opened his eyes and turned to smile at the taller slave. “Traximus, I haven’t seen you in a couple days. How are you?”

The mutant triceratops moved to stand beside him, looking down at the quiet city. “Answer my question first. Even as I approached I could practically hear your mind working.”

The turtle sighed. “How can I not? There are too many things that could go wrong on a daily basis. You are responsible for the mutant portion of the Elite Guard, so you of all others should know how important being prepared is.”

“It’s one thing to be prepared,” Traximus agreed, “but I’m worried you take it too far. It’s unhealthy.” He grinned mischievously, “It’s a good thing that you have someone to help you to ease some of that tension.”

“Trax!” Leonardo immediately looked around to make sure they were alone. “No one can know about that. And if you hadn’t walked in on us, you wouldn’t know either.”

“I didn’t mention any names,” he replied, raising his hands innocently. “Your secret is safe with me, Little One.”

“I wish you’d stop calling me that.”

Traximus laughed. “I just can’t help remembering the little terrapin that came here eleven years ago. I was astonished that such a tiny little thing was going to be Kizuna to the Crowned Princess.”

“I was only five,” Leonardo pointed out. “Of course I was puny back then. But I’m not anymore.”

“To me, you’ll always be little.” Traximus smiled at Leo then stepped back from the railing. “I should go before Hun comes looking for me. See you later, my friend.”

“Take care.”

He watched Hun’s Kizuna walk away just as he caught another familiar scent, this one he knew intimately. He smiled as two strong arms twined around his plastron from behind.

“What’re you doing?”

“Just enjoying the fresh air.” Leonardo turned to face his companion, hands coming up to cup sea-green cheeks. “I take it Angel has retired for the night?”

“That’s right,” Michelangelo replied, leaning into the touch with a smile. “Karai, too?”

“Yes.”

Mikey broke away with an infectious grin and took hold of Leo’s wrist. “Come on.”

Because they were only slaves, their room was more like a cell. It was located down a dark, barely used hallway and was small and cold, the stone walls bare and cracked in places. The single window was located high on the wall near the ceiling to prevent escape attempts, and was too small to even try anyway. The only things on the floor were the straw mat that served as their bed, one blanket that barely covered it, and a single chamber pot. 

In the corner by the door sat two katana and two nunchaku, lovingly placed there for easy access by their owners before the two terrapin bodies tangled together on the mat. The small room was soon filled with the sounds of their passion, two shades of green skin sliding together in a dance they had been performing together for the past year. 

Leo buried his face in Michelangelo’s neck with a moan; his hips nestled between his lover’s thighs as they rocked back and forth against each other. A tug on the tails of his mask guided his head up and their lips crashed, tongues tangling in passionate kisses as their movements became more frantic.

It was only times like these when he was with Mikey, and inside of him, that Leo let himself go and just enjoyed. His senses were filled with the heat of their bodies and the scent of both their arousals, the feel of Mikey’s hands as he clutched him closer and the sounds of their moaning and churring. His own hand sped up on the other male’s length that was trapped between them; the pads of his fingers trailed over the spots he knew would drive his lover over the edge.

Breaking the kiss with a cry, Michelangelo’s body stiffened as he came first. Leonardo followed only a few thrusts later, releasing a grunt as he marked the other male on the inside. 

Afterwards, they shared tired kisses as they cleaned up with a rag Mikey had swiped from the laundry. They rearranged themselves on their sides facing each other, huddled beneath the thin blanket and sharing the same air as they stared into each other’s eyes.

Leo wrapped his arms around him and tugged him closer to nuzzle their beaks together. Mikey happily returned the affection, his own arms sliding around Leo in response. As they drifted off to sleep, a slightly sick feeling in the pit of Leo’s stomach warned him that things were about to change.


	2. Chapter 2

Even after sixteen years of intensive training Michelangelo had a hard time keeping still for too long, and he consciously fought the urge to fidget as the Oroku family quietly ate their breakfast. The delicious scents of the freshly cooked rice and fish assaulted his nose, and he stiffened when his stomach growled softly in a reminder that he had yet to be given the privilege of anything to eat. His wide eyes snapped to the Emperor, fearful that he was heard but Saki continued to ignore him.

A gentle touch to his wrist caught Mikey’s attention and he barely turned his head to look at the one beside him. Leonardo’s reassuring smile, a barely-there twitch to his mouth, drew some of the tension from Mikey’s body like a sponge. After all their years in each other’s company the other turtle instinctively knew how to calm him both mentally and physically.

One of the human guards that always flanked Saki shifted slightly, and Leo immediately let go of Mikey like he’d been burned. The last thing either of them could afford to do was out their relationship, as much as it pained them to keep it to themselves like it was a horrible thing to be ashamed of.

Intimate relationships between slaves were strictly and vehemently forbidden. Males and females were forced to mate now and then like the animals that Saki believed them to be; after all the population had to keep going somehow. But to willingly fall in love with each other would have dire consequences if such a thing were to get out into the open.

Karai looked across the worn, wooden surface of the table at her sister seated opposite her. She observed Angel’s slouched position with a frown and tried to catch her eye, but the fifteen year old ignored her two older family members. Angel had become more emotionally distant lately. Even though she had never gotten along with Saki the two sisters had always been close, but now any attempt that Karai had made to talk with her had been rebuffed.

“Sit up,” Saki ordered without even looking at his youngest. “Your posture is a disgrace.”

Angel muttered disdainfully under her breath as she reluctantly complied. 

“You should really eat something, Sister. You’ve barely touched your rice or fish,” Karai implored. 

“I’m finished,” Angel announced instead as she sent a defiant glare at the older girl. “May I go begin my studies, Father?”

At Saki’s grunted assent she pushed away from the table and hurried from the room with Michelangelo faithfully at her heels.

“There is something troubling her,” Karai sighed worriedly as she turned towards her father. “Perhaps we should try to address it--”

“I have decided that you will begin your training today,” Saki cut her off. “It is your birthright to be my heir, but there is still a lot you must learn if you are to continue in my eventual absence.”

The dark-haired woman hastily closed her slack jaw before she was caught gawking. This was the first time that such a thing had been brought up. “Y-yes, Father. I am ready to begin.”  
Saki looked unimpressed. “We’ll see about that.”

The rest of the meal passed without words, the only sounds the light scrape of plates and cups on the table. When it was over Karai stayed seated until Saki and his guards left, then stood and turned to her Kizuna as he moved to his place beside her.

“I will be with Father for the next couple of hours,” she told him, as though he had not heard the conversation. “During that time, you’re free to do as you wish. Just make sure you’re back before lunch.”

Leonardo bowed. “Yes, Mistress.”

He accompanied her to the entrance of the Throne Room then waited for her to enter and close the heavy doors firmly behind herself. Never before had he ever been more grateful that slaves were forbidden inside that room.

Once the barriers were firmly in place Leo headed for the arena. He hated to watch the fights that took place there but he figured that he could at least do a little of his own training before he had to be back to Karai. There was always room for improvement.

The distinct sounds of grunts and the rhythmic thumping of someone already in the training area drew Leonardo curiously to the doorway. He stopped to stare, entranced, at the lone occupant. 

Raphael moved side to side, hitting the punching bag with both fists and feet. The layer of sweat that glistened on his emerald skin told of the time he’d already spent there, droplets hitting the floor with each hard punch and kick. From his place at the door, Leo couldn’t see the other male’s face but he knew it well enough. He’d been unable to tear his gaze away from him every time he fought in the Games.

Raphael stopped to catch his breath and suddenly realized he was no longer alone. Slowly, he lowered his fists and turned to face him.

“Uh… hi,” Leo stated, uneasy as the other turtle’s eyes narrowed, “my name’s Leonardo.”

“I know who you are.” He retrieved his towel, wiped it over his face then hung it around the back of his neck like a snake, his hands clutched at either end. 

“Are you going to tell me your name, or should I make one up for you?”

“I doubt you’re that creative. But if you must know, it’s Raphael.” He eyed the other male up and down. “So what’re you doing down here? Want to mingle with the riffraff?” 

“My Bonded was busy, so I took a walk and ended up here.” Leonardo looked around the room in light interest. Despite his intentions when he had decided to come, he’d only actually been inside the training area very little over the years.

There were several punching bags that all looked as though they’d had better days; a small stream of sand trickled from the one Raphael had been beating up. There were also weights and workout benches. Various weapons lined the walls, most metal and deadly; others were constructed of simple wood and obviously only for practice. 

Leonardo’s eyes sought out Raphael’s waist and the twin weapons that resided on either side, hooked into his belt. “Sais?”

“Wow, you’re bright,” Raph replied sarcastically. He cocked his head at him, previous suspicion replaced with mild curiosity. “Why are you really visiting? No one comes here because they’re bored.”

“Honestly, I was hoping to train a bit.”

Raph snickered. “Really. And here I thought those toothpicks on your shell were just for show. Why don’t you go play with your shadow? Down here is where the big boys train.”

“Big boys?” Leo replied dryly. “I suppose you’re talking about yourself?”

He spread his arms. “You see anyone else in here?”

Leonardo rolled his eyes and walked further into the room. He made a show of looking at everything except for the other turtle as though he was bored with him. “I’ve watched you fight, Raphael, and really you’re hardly impressive,” he lied.

Immediately Raphael’s body tensed. “Come again?”

“You heard me. In fact, if we were to spar not only would I beat you, but I wouldn’t even break a sweat.”

“Oh, that’s it,” he growled as his fists rose. “Since you want to show off to me so badly, let’s go. Right now.”

“Now, now,” Leo held up his own hands, palms open in a placating gesture, “that’s not how ‘Big Boys’ act, now is it?” He smirked patronizingly, clearly enjoying how easy it was to get the other male riled up.

That look made Raphael want to kick his shell even harder. “You’re asking for it, you little shit. You won’t be so smug when I wipe the floor with your pretty face.”

“Prove it.”

Raphael lunged, adrenaline coursing through him as he swung at the other terrapin. Leonardo dodged and jumped back out of the way; arms rose defensively as he landed. Raphael immediately followed forcing Leo back each time he aimed a hit somewhere on his body. Raphael feigned to the right then flipped over Leo, and as soon as the blue-masked turtle turned towards him he roughly shoved his knee into Leo’s stomach.

Leo grunted at the unexpected blow and curled forward. When his hands hit the ground he pushed off with his arms, catapulting himself back and away from the kick aimed at his head. His expression darkened and he immediately shot forward again; his own fist socked his opponent in the jaw.

Raphael stumbled back a step before he righted himself, lips curled into a smirk. “Nice,” he smirked, then shot forward again.

Their fight continued for several more moments before they both backed up simultaneously. Bruised and panting, they observed each other warily for a few moments before Raphael broke into a grin, effectively ending the tension.

“Alright, I admit it. You’re not half bad for a pampered pet.”

“Hardly pampered,” Leonardo replied, though he smiled. “You’re pretty good yourself. For riffraff.”

Raphael laughed. “Yeah, yeah.” 

He gestured for Leo to follow him and led the way over to the pitcher. The cup of water they shared was warm but still refreshing, helping to cool their exerted bodies. Raph watched Leo as he drank, eyes drawn to the others throat as he tilted his head back to get at the last droplets of liquid at the bottom of the cup. Raph licked his own lips as he felt a twinge in his lower plastron.

“So where’s your Kizuna?” Leo asked him as he placed the empty cup down.

“Hell if I know,” Raph shrugged. “Dumbass is around here somewhere; probably flirting with April.”

Leo’s brows knitted in confusion. “But… aren’t you worried that something will happen to him? If you can’t be with him, then you should at least know where he is at all times.”

Raph snorted. “This from the one who wandered away from his own Kizuna because he was bored.”

“I told you she’s busy.”

“Busy doing what, using the chamber pot? Because as I understand it, you Pets are supposed to be attached to your Bonded’s hip or something, aren’t ya. Well, we in the lower part of the city don’t feel the need to wipe our human’s asses every time they bend over.”

Leonardo’s expression turned disgusted. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about, Raphael.”

“Don’t I?” Raph stalked towards him, forcing Leo back until his carapace smacked against the rough wall. He raised his hands and pressed them to the cold stone on either side of his head, effectively caging the other turtle in. “I know all the things that go on inside that place you call home, Fearless. We’re all one big joke to everyone inside there. We barely survive while you laugh your asses off at how pathetic we are, all the while enjoying fresh foods and soft beds.”

“It’s not like that!” Leo insisted. He raised his arms between them and shoved Raph away. “You are the one who has no idea! All of our lives are difficult, Raphael. Saki doesn’t make it easy for anyone.”

Raphael’s laugh was mocking. “Right. I’m supposed to just take your word for it? You’d honestly say that there isn’t a single perk to living in that place?”

“No perks like what you’re insinuating. But there are certain things that make it bearable.” Leo thought of Michelangelo, his light in the darkness, and his feature’s softened.

Raphael stared at him in surprise at the tender look. Captivated, he slowly moved closer as a surge of lust warmed his body like the sun on a summer day. “Leo… I…”

Their lips nearly brushed when Leo stiffened and suddenly turned away. “No.”

“Wait, what is it?” Raph’s voice lowered a little. His fingers brushed the other male’s shoulder, then quickly grabbed hold when he tried to leave. “No. Don’t walk away, Leo. I want to know.”

“Why the hell should you care?” Leo shot back. “You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. You’re just another--”

“Another what?” Raphael demanded angrily. He roughly turned the other male around to face him. “Another slave? Another expendable nobody?”

Leo shook his head. “You’re not a nobody, Raph. Things are going to be different.”

Raphael snorted. “Sure. Is somebody going to magically swoop in and save us from Big, Bad Oroku Saki? Face it, Leo, you and I don’t have anything worth fighting for.”

“Yes I do. And someday, you will too.” 

Leonardo broke away from him and left the training room.


	3. Chapter 3

The only sounds were the shuffle of feet against the stone floor and the soft breathing of the two occupants as they slowly made their way through the pitch black, narrow passage. They never risked taking a torch for fear of either burning themselves in the small space, or alerting anyone to their presence should there be an opening somewhere in the walls they weren’t aware of.

One of Angel’s hands trailed along the rough wall, while the other kept a firm hold on one of Mikey’s. It was both to guide him along behind her, as well as give them both comfort in the seemingly endless, almost suffocating darkness. But the tunnel would also lead them to a temporary measure of freedom, and so it was worth it as long as they had each other. Angel and Michelangelo’s strong bond of friendship and trust had been forged the day that fate had brought them together eleven years prior.

It was a well-known rule that only when a human reached the age of nine years were they eligible to make a choice from the mutant children that were waiting for a place in society. The young ones were separated from their mothers at five years old and kept inside individual cages where they didn’t have interaction with anyone but their human caretakers, the Feeders.

The cages themselves were about five feet tall, and seven feet long. They were stuffed so close side by side that the thinnest piece of cloth wouldn’t have been able to fit between them. The bottoms were strewn with damp, moldy hay, and the whole enclosure stank of urine and feces. The only part of the floor that was clean was the path that visitors walked while they made their choice.

Even though she had only been four at the time, Angel remembered the horror she felt at how the mutants were treated. The ones that were close enough to the bars of their prisons looked like they hadn’t properly eaten in weeks, and she was almost positive that some of them were even dead.

“Father,” her tiny hands tugged urgently at Saki’s robe, “some of them are sick!”

Angel had fully expected her father to share her concern, maybe help the ones she pointed out, but he simply kept walking. “If they are too weak to survive here, then they have no place in my city. Only strength and power matter in this world, Angel, remember that.”

“It doesn’t look like they’re even properly cared for,” nine year old Karai remarked, just as aghast as her younger sister. “The cages aren’t even clean!”

“They’re more than enough for the likes of them,” Hun grunted in disgust.

Behind him, the pain was clear in Traximus’ eyes. “It is a terrible thing what they must endure for a chance at survival,” he murmured.

Karai reached up to touch the strong, kindhearted mutant’s hand in a moment of comfort before Saki snapped at her to pay attention.

The group stopped outside a group of cages where one of the children had caught Karai’s interest. While they were speaking to one of the Feeders about him, Angel wandered off to the cages a few rows down. 

The tiny mutants wore almost identical expressions of despair and pain, and when Angel tried to speak kindly to them, the ones that were still able to move scrambled away as far as they could like her words were more frightening than comforting.

All but one little, sea-green turtle. 

“Hi, I’m Angel,” she carefully greeted, not wanting to startle him too. “What’s your name?”

“Michelangelo,” he replied back in a small, insecure voice. His dirty, three-fingered hands loosely clutched at the thick metal bars that separated them. “Are you here to pick one of us?”

Saki spoke before she could. “Come, Angel, your sister has chosen her Kizuna. We’re leaving.”

Angel turned towards him and shook her head. “Wait. Father, I want this one,” she insisted, pointing at Michelangelo.

Saki sighed impatiently. “You know you’re too young to--”

“Please!” Angel knew without any doubt in her mind, that if they left without Michelangelo there would be no hope for him. She didn’t want him to get sick, or die. There was nothing she could do for any of the other poor mutants in that awful place, but for him she could make a difference. “Please, Father!”

She pleaded and begged over and over with barely a breath in between, desperate and determined. And finally Saki gave in and let her take the little turtle child as her Kizuna. Angel would have liked to say that he was giving into his paternal feelings for her when he said yes, but really she knew he only agreed so that she would be quiet and let them go back home.

Obviously Karai’s choice had been Leonardo, and the rest was history.

They reached the end of the tunnel and Angel moved aside as much as she could. Mikey slipped passed to place his hands against the wooden barrier that blocked their way, and gave a hard shove.

“Oh!” April started in surprise as her trunk moved, bumping noisily against the uneven stone of the floor. She sighed, a hand clutched at her chest when she saw the two figures that crawled out of the hole behind it. “Princess, you frightened me. I really wish you’d make some sort of signal when you were going to do that.”

“We’ll make sure to bring a koto with us next time,” Mikey grinned. He held up his hands and twiddled his fingers, as though he was playing the stringed instrument. “Bing, bong, bing!”

“Thanks, Mike,” the Healer smiled amusedly. “So to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“I just needed to get away for a little while.” Angel idly looked around at all the different colored bottles and jars that littered the room. “And besides, last night I had another… dream.” Her expression turned troubled. “I was hoping to discuss it with you.”

“Of course. I would be happy to.”

Donatello cleared his throat. “Umm… hey, Michelangelo, why don’t you come with me to the market?” he offered, grabbing his bo. “We can get some more ingredients for April’s poultices.” 

“Really? The market?” the nunchaku wielder brightened. He gave his Kizuna a big, hopeful grin. “Can I?”

“Sure,” Angel agreed immediately, a bit relieved. 

April went to the trunk and opened the heavy oak lid with a squeak, rummaging inside. The red cloth pouch she pulled out jingled as she handed it to Donatello. “I’m afraid there are only enough coins here for the herbs. Don’t let them charge you too much, Donnie.”

Donatello nodded as he tied the pouch to his belt. The two turtles turned to go when Angel called for them to wait. She dug into her own pocket and pulled out a purple pouch, this one fuller than the one that April had given them.

“Here,” she gave it to Michelangelo, “use this to buy you both some food.”

“Princess, we can’t take that,” Donatello hastily protested. “Really, it’s fine--”

“I insist,” Angel smiled. “I’m not sure about you, Donatello, but poor Michelangelo hasn’t had a chance to eat yet. It’s the least I can do for both of you.”

At April’s nod, Donnie gave the young girl a grateful smile and bowed. “Thank you. We won’t be gone long.”

Michelangelo bowed too, and then quickly followed the other terrapin out of April’s shop and into the bright and warm morning sunshine.

The market was already bustling with activity. Sellers shouted their wares from the various shops and carts that lined the dirt streets. There were a variety of fresh meats, fruits, vegetables and meads, sparkling jewelry and jems, sharpened weapons and beautiful musical instruments, both fresh and dried herbs, hand sewn clothing, fine pieces of skinned fur and soft leather.

Michelangelo practically floated towards the enticing scent coming from a cart that was selling sweet rolls. “Mmmm.. those smell delicious!”

“Wait, Mike,” Donnie laughed, catching the other turtle’s wrist. “Let’s buy the herbs first, and then worry about eating. I want to make sure I get the freshest ones.”

“Aw..” Mikey pouted, but trudged behind Donnie anyway as he led him away from the dough treats. “You’re an evil, evil turtle. I thought April used dry herbs.”

“She does, but she prefers to dry them herself so that they’re used at just the right time."

There were several carts to choose from so Donnie picked the one that looked like they had the biggest selection. The owner was a slim, older man with more blonde, scraggly hair on his face than on his head. He turned expectantly when he heard the two approach, then immediately sneered when he realized there was no human with them.

Michelangelo paused at the unwelcome look, but Donatello plowed right on like he hadn’t noticed.

“Excuse me, but we’d like to buy some Sage, Poke Root, Onion, Mullein, Lobelia, Slippery Elm, Golden Seal, Dandelion and Yellow Dock.”

“We don’t got none of those,” the man replied gruffly.

“I’m sorry but you must be mistaken. They’re all right there,” Donnie politely pointed out each herb in turn. “How much?”

“Look, I told you we ain’t got any, slave. You deaf, or just stupid?”

“He not deaf or stupid,” Michelangelo shot back. “But you’re definitely ugly! It looks like your hair slipped off your head, and is clinging for dear life on your chin.”

The merchant’s face reddened, a vein throbbing in his neck. “I ain’t selling no fucking thing to the likes of you disgusting mutant freaks.”

“But they’re for the April O’Neal, the Healer--” Donnie started.

“I don’t care if they’s to stuff in that bitch’s rags to make her boobs bigger. If it was up to me, all slaves and their sympathizers would be tied to metal stakes in the square and burned alive. Starting with that fool Healer. Now get out of here before I—urk!”

Donatello’s expression darkened as he grabbed the merchant’s ratty shirt and yanked him close over the cart. “I’d watch what you say about my Kizuna, you close-minded, pig-headed idiot. You wouldn’t want the Emperor to hear all the nasty things you’ve been saying about him.”

The human sputtered. “I never said nothing about--!”

“Oh yes you did. Didn’t he, Mikey?”

Michelangelo grinned. “Oh, yeah. I think he said something about how the Emperor likes to have sex with livestock.”

“Sex with livestock, that’s what it was,” Donnie agreed. “I wonder which punishment he’d choose for you for that rumor. The prison, or perhaps the Games?”

“Oh, oh! I know!” Michelangelo bounced up and down. “Beheading! Definitely beheading!”

Sweat rolled down the merchant’s face. “H-he’d never believe the words of slaves!”

“No, probably not,” Donnie lowered his voice menacingly, “but he would believe it if one of his guards told him, and I know just how to spread that rumor. Now, are you going to sell me the herbs I requested or not?”

He released the human with a shove, and smiled innocently at the wide-eyed look of fear that he received in response.

“Kitsune!” A mutant fox woman appeared at the merchant’s side. “Get these slave—I mean, these fellows the herbs they asked for.”

“Right away, Master,” she replied. After the human had made a hasty retreat with a barely intelligible mutter about more supplies, Kitsune giggled. “Nice work, guys. I’ve never seen Darrin’s eyes bug out like that.”

“Yeah!” Michelangelo laughed. “I thought they were going to pop out of his head.” He clapped his friend on the shell. “That was amazing, Donnie!”

The purple masked terrapin smiled. “Sometimes you have to be a little persuasive with these merchants.” He took the bag of herbs that Kitsune gave him and paid her the amount of coins they were worth.

“Can we get something to eat now?” Mikey whined. “I’m starving!”

Donatello laughed. “Yes, now we can get something to-ah!” He nearly dropped the bag when Michelangelo grabbed his wrist and darted with him through the market. “Whoa, slow down!”

“No! I don’t want to miss any of those sweet rolls!”

“But we just ran passed the cart!”

“What?!” Mikey turned to look just in time to run smack into something large and solid. He fell back into Donnie and the two of them tumbled into the dirt with pained grunts. “Ow ow ow..”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see either of you.” The crocodile mutant reached down and easily helped the two males to their feet. “Are you hurt?”

“I think we’re okay,” Donnie replied as he rubbed his hip. “Sorry about that, Leatherhead.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Michelangelo agreed. “I just wanted to get to those sweet rolls before they ran out.”

Leatherhead chuckled. “I don’t blame you, Michelangelo. They are quite delicious.”

“Come join us for some,” Donnie offered. “It’s the least we could do after plowing into you like that.”

The rolls were still fresh and warm, a heavenly mixture of spices, raisins, and candied fruit. They purchased seven and after each mutant chose two, Mikey took the extra one and carefully wrapped it in a piece of cloth.

“Saving that for later?” Leatherhead smiled at him as he ate his first roll.

Mikey shook his head and stuffed half of one into his mouth, a few crumbs tumbling out as he answered, “nah, it’s for Leo.”

Donatello’s eye ridges raised in surprise. It wasn’t the act of saving one for the blue masked turtle that threw him off, but rather the way Michelangelo spoken of his intention. Even with the distraction of the flying crumbs, the soft affection was clear in his tone.

From the curious look Leatherhead’s face, he’d obviously caught onto the same thing that Donnie had. “Michelangelo, are you and Leo--?”

“So… uh… what was up with that merchant’s attitude?” Mikey fidgeted a little in discomfort as he cut him off. “I know some humans don’t think much of us, but…” 

“Ah, my friend, you have missed much as the Princess Angel’s Kizuna,” Leatherhead stated sympathetically. “The Emperor is not the only human who hates us, simply because of what we are.”

“I know that. I mean, I remember what it was like before I was chosen,” Mikey suppressed a shudder as he recalled the cage he’d been kept in. “But I never thought that people right here in the market, with their own Kizunas, would still be so cold.”

“It’s something we go through on a daily basis,” Donnie shrugged. “It’s just the way life is, Mikey.”

“Well, it’s not right!” the orange masked turtle insisted. “Maybe when Karai takes over…”

Donnie shook his head. “That would be nice, but I wouldn’t count on it. By the time she’s ready for the throne, she’ll be nothing more than Saki’s puppet.”

He started in surprise when Michelangelo snagged his hand in both of his, and fought the urge to blush as he suddenly found the other’s face extremely close to his own. 

“M-Mikey?”

Michelangelo’s eyes burned with conviction. “There’s something I want to tell you.”


	4. Chapter 4

As night fell over the Imperial City, the darkness was chased from the streets with each torch that was lit by a patrolling guard. The silver glow of the full moon above entwined with the orange flames, bathing the city in an almost ethereal glow.

A quick flash of movement on one of the roofs caught a young guard’s attention with a start. When nothing else moved, he shrugged and continued on the route of his patrol, a torch held securely in one hand while the hilt of his sword rested in the other.

“That was close,” Leonardo muttered with a glance over the side of the roof. “We were almost spotted that time.”

“That’s what makes this fun,” Michelangelo grinned. “How boring would the game be if there were no risks involved?”

Leo rose to his feet with an amused smile. “Right… well let’s not test it too much. Now you remember the rules, right?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Of course, Leo. We’ve only been playing for the last three years. Whoever makes it through the town first wins.” 

“What should be the stakes this time?”

Leo had come up with the exercise both to improve his skills as well as escape the palace for a little while every few nights or so. Michelangelo had quickly joined him for the latter reason, and it had become a tradition between the two of them. 

Mikey’s grin turned mischievous. Moving closer to his lover, he placed his hands on Leo’s strong shoulders and nuzzled their beaks together. “How about the usual?”

“The last piece of Wagashi?” Leo chuckled, thinking of the small, sweet confections Angel and Karai gave them sometimes. “Sounds good to me.” His hands grasped Mikey’s hips, guiding their plastrons closer together. “On three. One…”

“Two,” Mikey added.

“Three!”

They released each other simultaneously and ran. This was one of the times when Mikey’s endless mounds of energy played to his advantage and he was off like a shot, Leo following quickly behind him. They bounded and flipped from rooftop to rooftop, enjoying the pump of adrenaline through their bodies and the cool night air on their skin. It was freedom, pure and simple, and there was no better feeling.

Leo finally allowed himself some measure of relaxation as they moved. He couldn’t help but grin every time they were almost caught by patrolling guards, suddenly enjoying the rebellion not only by being outside of the palace, but also by being together. During the day Leo was all about control and rules, following them almost to the letter because he didn’t want any of his disobedience to be reflected on Karai. But at night it was like a whole different world.

They were both breathing heavily by the time they reached the last cluster of houses that resided near the far wall that encircled the city. Unable to continue, Mikey and Leo both leaned their shells against the unused stone chimney of the final building, sweat trailing down their bodies as they attempted to catch their breaths.

“Looks like it’s a tie,” Leo panted. 

“But you’re still going to let me have the candy, right?” Mikey asked breathlessly, looking at Leo with wide, pleading eyes.

The blue masked turtle’s resolve only lasted a moment, a personal best, and then he chuckled with a shake of his head. “It’s impossible for me to say no to that expression.”

“I know, that’s why I make it,” Mikey grinned. “Don’t worry, Leo. I’ll make it up to you.”

He arched an eye ridge in amusement. “Is that so? And how do you plan on doing that?”

“I’m thinking… like this.” 

Moving closer to press to his side, Mikey ducked his head and licked a slow stripe up the side of the other male’s neck. His hand dragged down the yellow plastron, his fingers trailing back and forth from one of Leo’s inner thighs to the other. Each time across, he stopped to tease the slit that housed Leo’s hardening cock, pressing just slightly before leaving again. 

Leo shivered as a spike of desire shot through him. He tilted his head to the side, giving Mikey better access to his skin as his legs widened further. With a churr, he let his member drop down into his lover’s waiting hand; hips automatically bucked when those thick fingers wrapped around him.

Mikey continued to lick and kiss Leo’s neck and shoulder as he slowly glided his touch over him. With each upwards tug, he slid the pad of his thumb over the tip in a small circle before moving back down.

Leo turned his head and caught Mikey’s lips in a kiss, tongues tangling wetly together. Then in one quick movement, he caught Mikey’s wrist and suddenly flipped their positions. Without giving the other male a chance to protest Leo dropped to his knees, lips and tongue tracing a wet line down his plastron as he went. By the time his kneepads touched the tiled roof beneath them Mikey was panting again, hard and eager.

Mikey’s hands found purchase on Leo’s shoulders, a low churr escaping his lips as his member slid into Leo’s warm mouth. “Ahh… Leo… I’m supposed to be… uhn… making it up to you.”

Leo broke away with a husky chuckle. “Does that mean you want me to stop?” His tongue flicked teasingly over his lips.

“No.” Mikey frantically shook his head and tightened his fingers on Leo’s shoulders to urge him closer again. “No. Please, keep going.”

Leo sucked on his own finger for a second before he took Mikey’s member back into his mouth. Urging Mikey’s foot onto part of the roof that slanted upwards, he slid his hand up between his lover’s legs.

With a low moan, Mikey arched as much as his shell allowed when he felt Leo’s thick, wet finger ease slowly into his entrance. Curses and words of praise flew from his lips in a mixed jumble in between the panting and grunting, as Leo’s finger found and played mercilessly with his prostate. “Yes, Leo… oh fuck…”

Leo’s head bobbed quickly back and forth. His free hand encircling his own erection, he tugged the aching length in time with the drag of Mikey’s across his tongue. Eager and ready for the taste of his lover’s release, Leo was taken off guard when he was suddenly shoved back just enough for his prize to slip from his lips.

He looked up at in surprise. “What..?”

With a husky mutter of Leo’s name Mikey lowered himself down onto his lap, and the two turtles churred together as Leo slid inside him. 

Their lips met in a hard, lust-driven kiss. Mindful of the family that was likely sleeping beneath them, they kept their mouths together as Mikey frantically ground himself back and forth. Leo’s hands grabbed onto his sides and he began to thrust back, eager to send them both over the edge that they were so quickly approaching. Mikey’s erection rubbed against Leo’s stomach with every grind of their bodies as their movements became more and more desperate.

Leo broke the kiss and titled his head back, panting up against the night sky as he shoved inside the hot, tight passage as deep as he was able. “M-Mikey… God…”

“Going to come, Leo?” Mikey purred, licking at Leo’s exposed neck. “I want to feel it…”  
“Y-yeah, you too.” The blue masked turtle reached between them, his fingers encircling Mikey’s member and pumping it in time with the snap of his hips. “Uhn… come on, do it…”

Mikey buried his face against Leo’s sweaty neck, his body going taut as he released between their stomachs. Leo followed right after, his arms tight around the orange masked turtle’s shell as he emptied inside of him.

The two of them clung to each other, kissing and caressing every part of their bodies they could reach. After a few moments of affection, Mikey lifted his head and met Leo’s mouth with his own.

“I love you,” he sighed blissfully against his lips.

Leo smiled and cupped the back of Mikey’s neck. “I love you, too.”


	5. Chapter 5

A small, emerald green hand reached desperately through the rusty cage bars. The little turtle grunted as he pressed his body forward as much as he could, his fingers just barely brushing the surface of the old, dry bread that lay just beyond his grasp. His stomach growled pitifully as he pulled back with a sniffle, miserable and frustrated.

“Aw, what’s the matter?” the Feeder laughed, lips curled back over his yellow, chipped teeth. “Can’t reach? Here, let me help.” 

He swung his foot and kicked the bread, sending it tumbling even further away from the cage to smack into a wall. Immediately a couple of scraggly rats rushed forth and started to fight over it, screeching and squeaking as they quickly bit chunks out of the bread and each other.

The little turtle’s vision blurred as he watched, and he hastily wiped the tears from his eyes as the Feeder turned his attention on him again.

“Such a pathetic little nobody,” the human sneered. He smacked the shovel he was holding against the cage with a loud clang, making the child jump back. “Don’t you get it? You ain’t worth nothing. No one’s going to want you, or care about you. All of ya slaves are disgusting pieces of scum, and you’re better off just layin’ down to die.”

It was the same thing he said every day, but the words still cut the little turtle deeply. He fought the urge to cover his ears, and instead curled himself into a ball as he tried to ignore the Feeder until he became bored and wandered away.

“I’m not worthless,” Raphael muttered to himself, hugging his knees to his chest. “And I’m not a nobody. Someone is going to choose me, and then everything will be better.”

He had been passed over by potential Bonded so many times that the promises almost seemed hollow to his own ears. But Raphael would not give up.

Then one day, a boy named Casey Jones stopped in front of his cage… and smiled at him.

Raphael could not remember a day that he was filled with more pride, than the one Casey and he were chosen to be members of the Elite Guard. It was a high honor bestowed on those that were the best of normal Guard, and in the moment he joined Traximus’ ranks, he finally felt like he was someone. Not just another slave at the side of their human, but instead one to be respected and looked up to.

And then he was sent right back to the bottom when his Kizuna was banished to the Games. His life was suddenly worth nothing more than the amusement of the Empire.

It was during his first fight that Raphael had looked up toward the Emperor’s box in hatred for his fate, and his eyes locked on Leonardo. Honestly he didn’t even know what it was about the other terrapin that intrigued him so much, but he couldn’t stop seeking him out. Raph thought that was as far as any interaction between them would go until Leo wandered into the training room like a lost puppy.

Everything that proceeded after that, from the spar to Leo storming out ran through his head over and over and over, completely driving him up the wall. It was all he thought about.

“Agh!” Raphael growled, frustrated, and hurled his sai so hard that it severed the head of the practice dummy on the other side of the room. “Why the hell can’t I get him out of my head?!”

With a string of colorful curses, he grabbed the weapon then stomped out of the training room.

Unable to risk getting caught he had no choice but to keep to the shadows, ducking into corners and hiding around pillars every time a guard walked by. He could not afford to forget for even a second that his presence was no longer welcome, and if he was caught there would be no mercy in his punishment.

As Raphael moved through the lower levels of the palace, he began to hear the familiar sounds of training: metal clanging together, grunts of effort and the thud of flesh striking flesh. His adrenaline pumped in response and his footsteps quickened. 

The Elite were separated into two different sections of the lower levels: the human division and the mutant division. The latter was less cared for; the door hung off its hinges at an awkward angle, and creaked loudly when budged. He’d have to make his entrance quick. Raph looked around to make sure the coast was clear, then hastily slipped inside. 

Just as he’d heard, a full training session was in progress. Mutants of different sizes, species and ages were in the middle of a hardcore practice.

“No! You must keep your guard up!” Traximus’ voice boomed as he walked the room. “During battles any weakness will be found and exploited by the enemy, and they will show no mercy!”

Raphael heard a cry, and ducked in time to narrowly miss getting struck by a flying mutant tiger. The Elite struck the wall with a pained grunt and slid to the ground. “Ow…”

“Are you okay, Tora?” Raph helped the figure to his feet.

“Raphael?” The feline’s brown eyes widened. “What’re you doing down here?”

“That’s just what I was about to ask,” Traximus approached them, eyeing the Elite sternly. “Go back to training.”

Tora respectfully bowed to his leader, cast one last look at Raph, then hurried back to his sparring partner with an irritated grumble, “watch what you’re doing next time, Kuma! I almost took Raphael out!”

“Sorry!” The bear mutant gave Raph a sheepish wave. “Good to see you, Raphael!”

“I see training is going the same as usual,” Raphael stated amusedly as he returned the wave. “Some things never change, at least.”

“Yeah,” Traximus sighed. He rubbed at his eyes to try to ward off a quickly approaching headache. “But they’ll get better. Of course, no one will ever be as good as you.”

The terrapin chuckled. “Damn straight. I was the best of the best. Well, after you,” he added as Traximus raised an eye ridge.

The triceratops mutant smiled and clapped a hand on his former subordinate’s shoulder. “So what do we owe the pleasure of this illegal visit, my friend?”

“I just wanted to see how the old team was doing.”

“Really.” He clearly wasn’t convinced.

“Yeah.” Raph loosely grasped the hilts of his sais, more for something to do with his hands than anything else. “Uh… and I wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure, anything.”

“You… um… you spend a lot of time in the palace.”

“Yes,” Traximus replied slowly. “That’s not a question though, Raphael. You know I do.”

“So then you must… erm… know Leonardo.”

Traximus was silent for a few long moments, and Raphael began to shift uneasily under his calculating gaze. “I know him,” he finally said, a hint of suspicion in his tone. “Why?”

“I need you to get me into the upper levels to see him.”

“No, absolutely not. Do you have any idea what will happen should anyone catch sight of you? Surely you remember what Saki does to trespassers.”

The screams of pain from the dungeon were still fresh in Raphael’s mind, even after so long. “I’m aware. But you don’t understand, Traximus. I need to speak to him.”

“You’re right, Raphael. I don’t understand,” the taller mutant crossed his arms. “Why are you so insistent about this?”

Raph rubbed the back of his neck. “He uh… came to see me a couple days ago. And we had an argument.”

Traximus cracked a smile. “You had an argument with someone? Now that’s surprising.”

Raphael glowered. “Your sarcasm isn’t helping. The point is, I’ve been feeling shitty about it and I want to apologize.”

“You’re just full of surprises today. You should just wait for Leonardo to find you again, Raphael. I’m not going to help put either of you in danger.”

Raph clenched his fists, shaking his head so hard his mask tails swung over his shoulder. “I don’t want to wait, okay? I don’t take orders anymore, and I’m going to the upper levels whether you like it or not.”

“Damn it,” Traximus sighed, frustrated, and ran a hand over his face. Raphael was clearly determined to do be an idiot and put himself at risk, so the least he could do was try to keep him from getting snagged by a guard. “Why is this so important to you? You’ve pissed off numerous people and never once came remotely close to apologizing.”

“It just is, okay? Now shut up and help me.”

The obvious choice was to sneak Raphael in during the middle of the night because there was less of a chance of running into anyone. Guards still patrolled of course, but the majority stayed close to Saki’s room. So as long as the two slaves stayed away from that particular area of the palace they would be alright.

Traximus felt nothing but unease the closer they came to the dimly lit hallway that led to Leonardo and Michelangelo’s room. Although he trusted the ex-Elite with his life, he wasn’t thrilled with the idea that Raphael would discover the two other turtles’ secret. With a jerk of his head, Traximus directed Raphael to wait across the narrow hallway as he gently knocked on the chamber door.

After a minute of the sounds of shuffling and muffled voices on the other side, the wooden door slowly opened with a squeak to reveal Leonardo. He was devoid of his blue mask, and blinked sleepily in the orange light of Traximus’ torch.

“Trax, is something wrong?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry to wake you, Little One, but you have a visitor. He was rather insistent.”

Clearly confused, Leo looked passed him, and his eyes widened in recognition as the figure shuffled closer. “Raphael.”

“Hey, Fearless,” Raph greeted him hesitantly, a far cry from his persistence to come in the first place. “I--”

Another body squeezed passed Leo into the hallway, and Raphael started in surprise as he was suddenly face to face with a grinning, sea-green turtle. Like Leonardo, he was also missing his gear and mask.

“Ah, so this is the famous Raphael!” he said cheerfully, then stuck out a hand. “Hi, I’m Michelangelo!”

“Mikey, shh!” Leo moved closer to his lover, ready to slap a hand over his mouth if he needed to. “There’s still guards wandering around you know!”

“Um… hey,” Raphael greeted back warily, shaking the offered hand. He’d never met anyone so vivacious before.

Mikey ignored Leo’s nervous hovering. “Sorry I never get to see any of your matches, but Angel doesn’t like to go to the Games. Leo told me about you, though! You’re one of the best!”

Raphael smiled slightly at the praise. “Thanks.” He released Mikey’s hand and turned to Leo. “Can we talk? Alone?”

“Sure,” Leo nodded. “Um… this way. We’ll be right back, guys.”

Raphael followed him back down the hallway, but before they could reach the end Leo suddenly veered to the right and slipped into an opening in the wall.

His hand grasped onto Raph’s wrist. “Watch your step,” Leo told him quietly, “there’s a few stairs. Just go slow.”

“I know how to climb steps in the dark!” Raph snapped and he yanked his arm back to begin the ascent. 

Then immediately stumbled.

Leo chuckled. “Sure you do.”

The stairs wound up for a floor before it led out onto a small balcony outside that was bathed in moonlight. The space obviously wasn’t used much – the thick stone railing was crumbled in places and decorated with bird droppings. Some kind of rodent had left a bunch of nut shells scattered in the corner, and cobwebs swayed in the breeze above their heads.

“Mikey and I found this place one day when we were kids,” Leo smiled slightly, as though he was stuck between being proud and embarrassed. “We used to explore a lot.”

Because of the tiny size of the balcony they had to stand with their shoulders brushing. A scent hit Raphael and he sniffed at the air; realization struck him hard, immediately followed by jealousy coiling in his gut like an angry snake.

“Speaking of that little ball of energy, how long have you two been fucking?”

Leonardo’s whole body stiffened. “Why would you even think--”

Raphael rolled his eyes. “Please, Leo. You smell like a mixture of sweat, his scent, and spunk. Only an idiot wouldn’t figure it out.”

Abashed, the terrapin tried to shuffle away but there was nowhere to go. “Y-you can’t tell anyone, Raphael. Please.”

“And who would I tell? I don’t give a shit who you’re screwing.” His fists clenched for a moment before he forced himself to relax. He had no right to be envious. “You didn’t answer my question. How long?”

“That’s none of your business. Look, you said you wanted to talk to me so whatever it is, let’s discuss it.”

“Hearing you talk like that, it would be obvious you belonged to Karai even if I hadn’t known. That was just too diplomatic.” Raphael cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I just… I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?” Leo asked, surprised.

“The argument we had in the training room. I just keep thinking about it, and… well… I wanted to say I was sorry.”

“Raph--”

“I mean, it’s not like I should have to!” the emerald turtle cut him off. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

“Yes you did!”

“And I’ve never said sorry to anyone. Ever! But damn it, there’s something about you. The way you looked, I mean.”

“The way I--?”

“I felt like I kicked a puppy or something. It was pathetic. I mean really—umph!”

Leo sighed heavily, his hand slapped over the other male’s mouth. “And you really need to learn how to shut up once in a while.”

Raphael glared.

“Seriously, it’s alright, Raph,” Leo smiled at him, dropping his hand. “I appreciate your apology, as slightly insulting as it was… And I realize that we come from two different places. I don’t understand yours, and you don’t understand mine. But I hope that won’t keep us from being friends?”

“I guess,” Raph replied hesitantly. He snorted when the other terrapin smiled widely. “Geez Leo, it’s not that exciting. And seriously, you really stink. I’m thinking of pushing you off this balcony.”

Leo laughed. “You do and I’m taking you with me.”


	6. Chapter 6

The room located to the east of the throne room was usually only accessible to Saki himself, and only with his explicit permission, a few of his Elite. It was where the Emperor trained far away from the prying eyes of potential enemies. As an extra measure, the windows had been sealed tightly and so the room always had a chill to it even in some of their most extreme summers. Because of the lack of sunlight and no fireplace, it could only be lit with numerous candles scattered about. The wax that was gathered beneath them was so thick and high that they looked like piles of fresh snow.

Like the Elite’s training room, there were weapons of various shapes and sizes along the walls. Unlike theirs however, his were of the best quality and selection. Katanas, bows and arrows, spears, sais, nunchucks, bo staffs, and replacement blades for his “Shredder” armor.

“Again!”

Karai winced at Saki’s command and raised her katana higher, then attacked the straw and wood dummy with a sharp cry. She had been practicing for the last few days with little rest ever since her father had decided that it was time for her to begin training to officially take his place.

She was expected to learn all she could from the palace’s extensive library as well as extreme weapons training. War could break out at any moment and prowess in both knowledge and physical defense were essential.

The only thing in Karai’s favor was that this was not her first time wielding a katana. As a child she had been fascinated with watching Saki as well as the Guard practice, and afterwards she would go to her room and imitate the moves as best she could. Although as her protesting muscles could attest, a pretend weapon was nothing compared to the weight and skill of a real one.

Still she would not give up. This was her future and she was determined to be a strong and powerful leader just like her father.

As she swung and dodged at imaginary opponents, Karai could say that she finally appreciated Leo and Michelangelo’s training. Growing up they had spent countless hours away from Angel and her, learning to use their weapons as well as their bodies to protect their human bonded should the need arise.

Karai made a mental note to properly thank her Kizuna for all his effort thus far, and then grit her teeth and continued her assault.

 

 

Donatello held the mortar and pestle in his hands, grinding down a bunch of flaxseed for April’s latest poultice. The smooth stone was a familiar weight that he had become accustomed to over the years, and using it had an almost hypnotic experienced on him. The soft crunch of the grinding herb, and the methodic twist of his wrist was calming. It was one of the first things Donnie had learned after he and April had begun their lessons under the previous Healer, her uncle Augustus O’Neil.

Behind him the shop door slowly opened with the squeak of rusty hinges.

“Hey, Donatello.”

He turned his head slightly to see Casey lingering in the shop doorway. Looking him over, the human didn’t appear injured and Raphael wasn’t with him, so there was only one reason why he would possibly just stop by.

“Good afternoon, Casey,” the purple masked turtle smiled. He set down the tools and shifted on the chair to face him. “April’s in the back.”

“April? I’m not here to see her. I just… um… came to see how you were.” He stepped inside nonchalantly attempted to lean against one of the tables. His hand hit one of the potion bottles which tipped into the one next to it. Casey flailed, attempting to catch the bottle, and in the process he smacked into a third one. It was almost in slow motion that the two males watched all three bottles hit the floor with a crash of glass and spill of precious liquid.

“DAMN IT, CASEY!” April’s voice bellowed from the backroom.

“It was an accident!” he called back without missing a beat. 

Donnie’s suppressed the urge to chuckle. He climbed to his feet and immediately went to help the poor human clean up the mess but a hand caught his arm. April wasn’t even looking at her Kizuna as she held him. Her furious green eyes were instead on Casey who looked back at her with the same guilty expression an animal would give its owner after tinkling on the rug.

“Let Casey clean up the mess, Donnie,” April instructed firmly. Dragging her eyes away from the other human, she smiled at the turtle. “It’s the least he could do after all that work we put into those, right?”

While the smile directed at him was kind, Donnie knew better than to argue. “Yes, April. Do you mind if I head into the market? I won’t be gone long.”

“Sure. Just be back before dark.”

“Good luck,” Donnie muttered to Casey as he stepped around the Ex-Elite, and the mess, and quickly left the modest shop. Only after the door was closed behind him did he grin and shake his head in barely suppressed amusement.

It was the same song and dance every couple of days or so. Casey would come over with the claim he wasn’t there to see April, cause some kind of accident and break something, and the shouting would begin. After the arguing was done and the mess cleaned up, April and Casey would then allow how they really felt about each other shine through and simply enjoy each other’s company. 

“Human mating rituals are strange,” Donnie mused. 

While it was kind of fascinating, replacing all those broken bottles and lost potions was getting expensive and time consuming. The two humans really should consider themselves to be lucky; at least they could be more open with their feelings when they finally decided to stop dancing around them. For slaves it wasn’t so easy. 

A startled shout broke him from his musing, and a moment later an apple rolled to a stop at his foot. Donatello looked up from the wayward food to see Hun and a couple of his Elite Guard laughing; knelt at their feet was the newest human servant at the palace as she attempted to pick up scattered apples, walnuts, and wedges of cheese.

“Oh I’m sorry, did I knock those out of your hand?” Hun smirked. “I should really watch where I’m going.”

“Aw look, she’s all dirty now.” One of the Elite grabbed her arm and yanked the woman up a little so her face was level with his crotch. “If you ever want to get dirtier, I have something for you right here, sweetling.”

Her feature’s hardened for a second, and then she smoothed them out with a forced smile. “How kind of you to offer,” she quickly pulled her arm away and crouched down again, “but I’ll have to decline.”

All humor left the Elite’s face. He seized her long black hair and with a hard yank pulled her head back. With his other hand he touched the sharp blade of his dagger to her bared neck. “I’d be careful how you speak to me, Girl. One flick of my wrist and your insides will feed the hungry vermin of this city.”

Hun’s laughter was interrupted by a pained grunt as an apple collided forcefully with the side of his skull, sending him stumbling a few steps. “What the Hell! Who threw that?!”

The three men quickly looked around but no one was in sight. Hun ground his teeth together   
and picked up the fruit, crushing it in his massive hand. 

“Come on, let’s find out who thinks it’s funny to throw food.”

The Elite released the woman with a hard shove and followed Hun and the other Guard as they hurried towards the market. Donnie watched them go, then emerged from his hiding place from behind a stone wall. 

“Are you okay?”

She smiled. “Yes, thank you. You have perfect timing.”

Donnie crouched down and helped her pick of the rest of the scattered food, placing them back into the woven basket Hun had smacked away from her. “You should still be careful when talking to the Guard. If you think they’re heartless, you really don’t want to have to face the Emperor’s wrath.”

“Yes, I believe you,” the young woman nodded. “Oroku Saki’s reputation as both Emperor and   
The Shredder precedes him even outside these walls.”

“If you know that, then why did you come here?” Donnie studied her. She seemed healthy and well taken care of, so why had she been desperate enough to come to a city controlled by such evil?

“It’s a complicated story,” she replied as they finished gathering everything. “Perhaps I will tell you it one day.”

“Alright.” With everything finally picked up, Donnie stood with the basket in one hand and helped his new friend up with his other. “My name’s Donatello, by the way. And yours is Tang Shen?”

She brushed the dirt from her plain, light brown dress, the standard color for human servants, and then relieved him of the basket. “That’s right. How did you know my name?”

Donnie smiled. “It’s not every day that someone new comes to the Imperial City, and it’s even more rare for Saki to allow that person to stay here. He’s very, well, particular about whom he allows in from the outside.”

“It definitely wasn’t easy,” Tang Shen agreed. The two of them walked side by side towards the palace. “I’m just a humble servant but Saki has made it clear he does not trust me at all. I’m sure those three Elite were sent to keep an eye on me. Too bad for them they didn’t count on a brave turtle with amazing aim.”

Donnie inclined his head. “I’m just glad I could help.”

Behind the palace was a servants’ entrance. Accessible through a narrow, roofless stone and wood tunnel, it led to a small door that led directly to the kitchen. 

“We’ll have to part ways here,” Donatello said apologetically. “I’m not really allowed inside unless I’m with my Kizuna.”

“I understand.” Tang Shen reached into her basket and gave him a wedge of cheese. “Here, take this.”

“Tang Shen, no, you’ll get in trouble.”

He tried to give it back, but she declined with a shake of her head.

“It’s alright, Donatello. I have more than we need anyway. Besides, one good deed deserves another don’t you think?”

With a small wave she disappeared down the tunnel. Donnie watched until he couldn’t see her anymore then headed back for home. As soon as he was within twenty feet he could hear shouting from inside the potion shop.

“April, that’s not what I meant!”

“So you saying that every woman should have a man around for protection, wasn’t implying that we’re defenseless?!”

“Yes! I mean, no! I mean… would you stop twisting my words around?!”

There was a loud crash.

“Oops..”

“ANOTHER ONE!?”

Donatello winced and immediately turned around. On second thought, maybe he should go see   
if he could find Leatherhead.


	7. Chapter 7

As soon as the match was over Leonardo was out of the Emperor’s box like a shot. All he could think about was all the blood that still stained the dirt floor of the arena, and how some of it had been Raphael’s.

The emerald terrapin had come out to the roar of the crowd with his whole body oozing confidence, just like always, and had fought extremely well at Casey’s side. But even his skill could not prevent his desperate opponent from breaking through and making contact with his sword. Raph’s cry of pain still rang in Leo’s ears and he quickened his steps, squeezing passed human and mutant spectators alike.

“How is he?” he demanded as he shoved his way into the training room.

Donatello started in surprise, nearly dropping the cloth he was using to staunch the blood flow from the wound in Raphael’s thigh. “He’ll be fine, I promise,” he hastened to assure the stressed turtle. “It looks worse than it is.”

“Yeah, it’s just a scratch, blue boy,” Raphael raised an eye ridge. “Calm down.”

Leo walked over to them to look at the cut for himself; it was several inches wide but to his relief the bleeding seemed to have slowed down. Donnie set the cloth aside and smeared some clear poultice the length of the wound, then set to work wrapping a clean bandage around Raph’s leg.

Suddenly feeling foolish, Leo ducked his head. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Raph. I just… there was a lot of death tonight. And then when you got hurt, I…”

“Whatever,” Raphael waved off the apology. “That’s what happens in the Games. I’m sure you’ve seen it a million times, Leo.”

“Unfortunately we all have,” Donatello murmured. After tying off the bandage he patted the emerald shoulder. “I’m not going to bother telling you to take it easy tonight since I’m positive you won’t listen.”

Raph grinned shamelessly. “You know me so well, Donnie.”

The purple masked terrapin rolled his eyes. He and Leo shared a friendly smile and nod as Donnie headed out of the training room, closing the door behind him.

Leo turned his attention back to his friend. “Take it easy with what?”

“Just a bit of fun. Hey, you should come.”

Leo was quick to decline. “Thanks for the offer, but I should probably get back. Karai is probably wondering where I ran off to.”

A strong hand grabbed his wrist as he began to leave; he turned and immediately flushed when he found that not only had Raph risen to his feet, but their bodies were so near each other that their noses were practically touching.

“She won’t notice. You said yourself that she trains a lot with Saki these days. Come on, Leonardo.” Raphael’s mouth twisted into a teasing smirk. “Unless you’re scared.”

Leo immediately bristled. “I’m not scared.”

“No? Well then, why don’t you prove it? Come with me.”

“Fine.” Leo pulled his wrist free, eyes narrowed at the other male’s pleased look. “And don’t act so smug.”

Raphael snickered. “Hard not to be when you’re so easily coerced. I’ll have to file that interesting trait away for later.” 

Against his better judgment Leonardo followed Raphael out of the training room and through the streets. Because of the match the market had closed early, and by then the bulk of the population was back to their homes. There were a few stragglers though and Leo didn’t miss the suspicious looks that were being blatantly sent his way.

Leo quickened his steps, sticking close to Raph’s shell. “Where are we going?”

“I told you, Fearless. We’re going to have fun.”

“By doing what, exactly?”

“Why all the freaking questions?” Raphael rolled his eyes. “Here’s one for you: what do you do for a good time up in that palace of yours? Other than fucking around with Michelangelo, I mean.”

“Why are you so obsessed with that?” Leo demanded in a harsh whisper. “And again I remind you to keep your voice down about it. If anyone found out about us…”

“Hey.” Raph turned so suddenly that the other turtle bumped into him, and he snagged Leo’s biceps to keep him from backing away. “Damn, Leo, would you relax? I know perfectly well what is and isn’t taboo for our kind. You’re not the only one taking risks here.”

Leo sighed, reaching up to rest his hand on Raph’s warm plastron. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I just don’t want anything to happen to him.”

“And what about you? If your little trysts are found out you’ll be punished, too."

"I’m not worried about myself. Just him.”

Raphael studied him for a second, then shook his head with a dismissive snort. “You’re something else, you know that? Come on.”

They approached a two-story wooden storehouse, typically used for the protected keep of grain or rice on the bottom floor, and housewares on the top. The roof was thatched; the foundation constructed of a grid of heavy timber, and the four, windowless walls braced by thick posts.

It was a typical structure found here and there throughout the city. The only unusual aspect was the mutant standing guard outside of the door.

“What the hell is he doing here?” the bear demanded, pointing at Leo. “Have you lost your damn mind, Raphael?!”

“Shut up, Kuma,” Raphael hissed. “You want the patrol to hear you? Leonardo’s fine, just open the fucking door.”

But Kuma was already shaking his head. “No, no way. He’ll go running to his bonded about us the second he can.”

Raphael narrowed his eyes. “Do you really think I would risk that?”

“Not before, no. Now I’m not so sure. He’s a Pet, Raph, not one of us.”

“I’m a slave just like you are,” Leonardo insisted. “I have no desire to betray anyone.”

“Right,” Kuma snorted. “You’ve been trained to say anything to get your way, everyone knows that.”

The unadulterated distrust in Kuma’s voice just reinforced what Raphael had told him when he and Leonardo had first met. The other mutants thought that he and Michelangelo were pampered, spoiled, and believed themselves superior just because they happened to be bonded to the princesses.

“What did he offer you, Raph?” Kuma continued nastily. He looked Leo up and down. “Some quality time between those legs of his? Or his mouth, maybe? I bet they taught him to suck real pretty, too.”

Raphael growled and Leo grabbed his bicep, more interested in preventing his friend from doing something stupid than defending his own honor. He wasn’t going to be able to change Kuma’s mind anyway. 

“Raphael,” he tried, “I can just go--”

“Shut your trap, Leo.” Raphael yanked away and shoved the bear hard into the side of the storehouse. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, so I suggest you stop talking and step aside. I’m still a better fighter than you, Kuma. Don’t test me.”

They glared at each other for a few long moments, tension practically crackling in the air, and then finally and to Leonardo’s surprise, Kuma submissively averted his eyes and shuffled aside.

Inside the storehouse were the typical sacks of rice, just as there should be, but they had been shoved aside to make room for the crowd of mutants. Male and female slaves were everywhere, talking and laughing and more relaxed than Leo had ever seen anyone be in his entire life. Drinks were passed between some, while others played games with dice, shared bits of food, or just enjoyed each other’s company. Almost immediately, Leo could feel any tension he had melt from his body and he wished he had Mikey with him too, sharing in his sudden euphoria.

Especially when he realized the number of couples. Pairings of the opposite sex as well as the same sex were snuggling together in corners and against walls, free to show affection without fear of retribution or punishment of any kind. Leo yearned to be able to do that with every fiber of his being – just be with the one he cared about out in the open.

“Raph!” Tora waved them over, his arm around Kitsune as she snuggled in his lap. “I was hoping you’d come tonight.”

“Why? So I can watch you two be sickenly cute together?” Raphael shook his head with an amused smile. “Get a room already.”

“Oh ha, ha,” Tora rolled his eyes. “Can’t you see we already have? Hey,” his eyes widened at Leo, “is he..?”

“With me,” Raphael cut him off, tugging Leo closer to his side. “You have a problem with that?”

“Of course we don’t,” Kitsune said. She gave Leo a friendly smile. “It’s good that you’ve come. Please, relax and have fun. You’re safe here.”

“I…” Leo hesitated, then smiled back and bowed his head, “thank you.”

He hadn’t realized that Raphael had left his side until the other male suddenly returned, shoving a small cup into his hand.

“Drink that,” Raph instructed, then knocked back his own cup.

Leo sniffed at the liquid before taking a tentative sip. It was sweet with a hint of fruit, and he immediately downed the rest of it. “That was delicious! Is there more?”

Raphael laughed. “Plenty. Just don’t go too crazy.”

They stayed together for a little while before Raphael separated to go play a few rounds of Chō-Han, a gambling game using dice. Players would bet on whether the two six-sided dice, after being shaken out of a cup, would add up to evens or odds. Raph was usually pretty good at it, and so Casey had no problem giving his Kizuna some coin when he had a night out. More often than not Raph would return with double the amount he’d taken with him.

He played a few rounds then passed on more, unwilling to jinx the luck he’d had. Raphael tucked the bag of newly acquired coin into his belt then weaved through the crowd. He found Leonardo still sitting with Tora and Kitsune, and his eyes widened in realization when he saw that the katana wielder was grinning widely at nothing and swaying a little.

“He really likes that sake,” Tora laughed at Raphael’s expression. 

“You weren’t supposed to get him drunk, you bonehead,” Raphael retorted irritably. He crouched down in front of his friend and clutched his shoulders to still the swaying. “Are you okay? You’re not going to throw up, are you?”

Leo squinted and reached up to touch Raphael’s face. His first attempt was a failure as he missed completely, grabbing at air instead, and released an annoyed huff.

“Stay still… can’t you see the room’s moving?”

Raphael sighed, then grunted as Leo’s hands smacked hard on either side of his face cupping his cheeks. “Ow! Leo!”

“Ahhh, there you are!” Leo grinned stupidly. “Hey, hey… come here…” His expression turned serious, but not his actions as he squished Raph’s cheeks back and forth. “You… are a pretty turtle. Seriously. I mean you’re hot.”

“Fuck, don’t do this to me, Leo,” Raphael grabbed the other’s wrists in an attempt to peel his hands off his face. “You’re drunk.”

“M’not,” Leo denied. “You’re sexy.” 

He yanked Raphael forward, throwing him off balance, and pressed their lips together in a rough kiss. Instantly all of Raph’s inhibitions went out the damn window, and with a groan he pressed closer trapping Leo between himself and the wall. Their plastrons rubbed against each other as they kissed again and again, the sweet taste of the sake hitting Raph’s taste buds as he slid his tongue into Leo’s eager mouth.

Leo’s arms slipped around Raphael’s neck, fingers tangling in the tails of his red mask. The scent of his arousal as well as the bulge in is lower plastron went straight through Raph like an arrow on fire. He churred in desire and snagged one of Leo’s thighs, guiding his leg around his waist as he shoved himself closer.

Leo broke the kiss with a moan, his head tilting back. Raph dived down to latch onto the bared neck, kissing and licking at the skin as he ground their hips together. He’d never needed anyone so damn badly before; all he wanted to do was take Leo, right there in front of everyone, hard and fast over and over until they were both sweaty and sated.

“Uhhnnn… Mikey…”

The name was like a bucket of cold water being dumped onto his head, and Raphael immediately broke away. Leo was staring back at him with unfocused eyes, completely plastered and blissfully unaware that he wasn’t with his lover.

For a brief moment, Raphael thought about playing along. By the way the other turtle was still rocking his hips, dick hard and ready beneath his plastron, it was obvious he was still very willing to fuck. It would be so damn easy to bend him over right there and Leo wouldn’t even protest.

But he also wouldn’t remember.

Guilt gnawed at Raph’s conscience and he cursed loudly in frustration. He set Leo’s leg down and ignored the other’s confused, and slightly hurt, look as he slung Leo’s arm around his neck pulled him to his feet. His own arm supported his friend behind his shell as he guided Leo from the storehouse.

“Come on, you drunk idiot. Let’s get you back to your room.”

“Mikey?” Leo stumbled a little.

Raph sighed. “Yeah, Mikey… He’s waiting for you. And just for the record, I hate you so much right now.”


	8. Chapter 8

The morning was unnaturally crisp for that time of year and Mikey awoke with a shiver. He rolled over with the intention of snuggling closer to his lover before they had to get up, only to open his eyes in confusion when he found only emptiness beside him.

“Leo?”

A soft, pained groan answered his inquiry. Leo was curled into a fetal position near the corner of the room, his head tucked beneath his arms and his body quivering.

Throwing the blanket off, Mikey quickly crawled over and laid his hand on the other’s shell. “Leo! What’s wrong?”

“Please don’t yell,” Leo pleaded hoarsely, tucking himself into a tighter ball. “I fell like my head is going to explode…”

Mikey had heard the guards talking about hangovers enough over the course of his life to know what one was. Although he’d never even seen anyone drunk until Raphael had brought a stumbling, incredibly happy Leo home the night before. The red masked turtle had muttered something beneath his breath that Mikey hadn’t understood before his lover had been unceremoniously dumped into his arms, and Leo’s unexpected weight had sent them both tumbling to the floor. Leo laughed, then immediately passed out, leaving Mikey to peel himself out from under him then attempt to drag him to their bed. 

And now he didn’t know what to do to help. Leo was in no shape to get up and they were due to be at breakfast soon. Karai might not mind if her Kizuna wasn’t there, but the Emperor would be furious. Everyone and everything had a place and they were always to be in that place.

“Donnie! I could go get Donnie!” Mikey mused to himself a little frantically as he rose to his feet. 

If he hurried he might be able to make it to the Healer and back in time before they had to be in the kitchen. Mikey scurried to the door and yanked it open, only to stop short with a startled shout at the figure standing there. 

In the background Leo moaned pitifully.

“I’m sorry to have scared you,” the stranger apologized, “but I figured your friend might be in need of some aid.”

“I… um…” Mikey looked behind himself at Leo, then back to the one before him. “Who are you, exactly?”

“My name is Splinter.” The mutant rat gave Mikey a friendly smile and a bow of his head. He held an air of wisdom about him, the kind that one earns from experience and age rather than books. In one of his hands he supported himself with a wooden stick for a cane, while in the other he clutched a clay jar. “I have just what your friend needs for his head.”

Michelangelo hesitated. On one hand this would be a lot faster than trying to get to Donnie, while on the other hand he wasn’t sure if he could trust something from this mutant he didn’t know. Only guards and the royal family were allowed inside the palace, and Splinter was obviously neither or Mikey would have seen him before.

The sound of Leo suddenly vomiting broke Mikey from his uncertainty, and he quickly stepped back so that Splinter could enter the room but he made sure to keep his eyes on the elder mutant as they both made their way to the hungover turtle’s side. Mikey dropped to his knees and grabbed their blanket, using the corner to wipe the mess from Leo’s mouth as his lover dry heaved.

“Come, let’s sit him up,” Splinter instructed, placing the stick down.

Together they supported Leo’s shell, easing him up despite his small whine of protest.

“You must drink this slowly,” the rat gently pressed the jar into Leo’s hands. “It won’t take the sickness away completely, but it will make you feel well enough to get through your morning duties.”

Clutching the jar, Leo sniffed the liquid contents. Then without a word he closed his eyes and began to sip.

“What’s it taste like, Leo?” Mikey asked anxiously. He wasn’t sure if poison would taste bad or not, but at least it would be a start should something go wrong.

“Bitter,” Leo murmured with a shudder.

Splinter smiled a little. “It’s an old recipe. The effectiveness will be worth the taste, I assure you.”

Satisfied when Leo didn’t appear to be in any more ill health than he started out in, Mikey turned his attention to their guest. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but why are you helping?” 

“I know the kind of man Oroku Saki is, and of the punishments he favors. And without aid to hide his discomfort, Leonardo would surely catch his attention.”

Leo stiffened. He downed the rest of the concoction and handed Splinter back the jar. “I feel a little better. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Splinter used his cane for support as he pushed himself back to his feet. “Do not lose heart, my young friends. Change comes when you least expect it.”

He left the two turtles staring after him in confusion of the cryptic words. 

Michelangelo slid his arms beneath Leo’s to help him to his feet. “We should get going. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes. I don’t think I’ll throw up again,” Leo croaked. He looked like he’d rather be sleeping than anything, but his steps were steady as they headed out of the bedroom. 

 

 

“Michelangelo?”

He turned from his perch on the stone wall to see Donatello’s concerned look. After breakfast Angel had taken Mikey to go see April and the turtle had decided to wait for her outside. The sun had brought warmth with it, much better than the cold morning, and Mikey basked as his mind worked overtime on that morning’s events.

“Oh, hey, Donnie.”

His attempt at cheer obviously wasn’t very convincing because Donnie frowned at him.

“Are you alright?” he asked in concern. “You don’t seem like your upbeat self today.”

“I’m just worried about Leo,” Mikey sighed. “He drank too much and was pretty sick this morning.”

“How is he now? Should I bring him something?”

“No, it’s okay. I think he’s sleeping.” Michelangelo dropped down from the wall, his feet hitting the ground with a soft thud. “Hey, Donnie, do you know a rat named Splinter? He came to the bedroom this morning and gave Leo a drink to help him feel better.”

The purple masked turtle shook his head. “No… I don’t think so. What kind of drink?”

“I’m not sure, exactly. He said it was an old recipe. It seemed to help though so I didn’t question it more than that.”

“And Leo was fine after that?” At Mikey’s affirming nod, Donnie put his fingers to his chin in what April referred to as his ‘thinking pose’. “Hmm… well, as long as it helped I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I’ll ask April later, though. Maybe she’s heard of him.” He smiled and held up the package he had in his free hand. “By the way, I got you something.”

“A present?” Mikey took the offering and reached inside. His expression brightened as he pulled out a soft and fresh sweet roll. “Wow, thanks Donnie!” He tangled his arm around the other terrapin’s neck and pulled him close into a hug, then pressed the treat to his lips. “Here, you have the first bite.”

Donnie pulled back a little. “No, Mikey, it’s okay. You have it.”

“Aw, come on. We’ll share it. Open up.”

Mikey was grinning so widely it was impossible to refuse him again. With a chuckle Donnie parted his lips and allowed his friend to feed him a bite. The sweet taste of raisins and cinnamon, warm and gooey, was heavenly and he couldn’t help but release a small, happy sound.

“These are so amazing,” Mikey raved happily, agreeing with the sound. He took the next bite with an expression of pure bliss. “Mmmm… You’re the best, Donatello!”

He refused to release the olive colored turtle until they had shared the entire roll. Only then did Mikey pull back and lick the leftover cinnamon from his fingers. Donatello watched the other’s tongue trail over his hand in rapt attention, then cleared his throat and looked away, suddenly uncomfortable.

“Um… I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Now it’s my turn to do something for you,” the nunchaku wielder announced. 

Donatello shook his head. “Really, you don’t have to. I didn’t do that so you’d owe me—“

“I know,” Mikey waved his hand dismissively, “but it’s only right. Oh, I know!” He grabbed Donnie’s hand, entwining their fingers, and started dragging him towards the palace. “You like books, right? Well the palace has a huge library! Let’s go there!”

“R-really, Michelangelo, that’s not necessary. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

The orange masked turtle was too pleased with his idea to listen and Donnie had no choice but to let his friend pull him. He looked down at their linked hands, Mikey’s palm pressed to his own, and somehow didn’t really mind.

 

 

Little was remembered about the Hamato clan those days, but one thing that always carried on was the fact that the late Empress, Sakura, had been extremely fond of the written word. During their lives together, Touma had bestowed her with as many books as he could, so by the time of their death the library was completely packed with shelves upon shelves of them.

It was one of the few things from the deceased rulers of the Imperial City that still remained completely intact. The room was one level with a fireplace towards the back; a long wooden table set up near enough to it that any sitting at it would be warm without getting burnt by any embers that happened to escape. The shelves were so tall that ladders were placed here and there to make the top books reachable. The windows were large and wide, designed to let as much sunshine in as possible to keep strain from the eyes of those trying to read, and to cut back on the need for candles in the company of such precious, flammable material.

As he stood in the middle of the room, Donatello had to make a conscious effort not to let his jaw drop in sheer surprise of it all. He’d never seen so many books in one place and had absolutely no idea where to even start looking.

“I knew you’d like it,” Michelangelo boasted, pleased with himself. “Not too many people really come in here, so feel free to take whatever you like. I doubt anyone will notice.”

Certain shelves were obviously left alone more than others. While most of the books were covered in layers of dust, there were a few that could barely even be seen through the clear signs of disuse. Dust, cobwebs, and dried up dead bugs littered the spines so thickly that it was hard to tell where one book ended and another began.

Drawn to a section of them, Donnie chose a tome and eased it out with a puff of thick, off-white dust. The cover of the book itself was a simple brown color and tied shut with worn leather cord. The spine crackled when Donnie eased it open; the pages, once likely a crisp white, had become stained yellow with age and were extremely brittle. 

“What is it?” Mikey asked curiously, looking over the other turtle’s shoulder. 

Donnie ghosted his fingertips lightly over the page, feeling like he was touching something precious. “It’s a recount of the royal family. Ending with… the Emperor Hamato Touma, his wife Empress Sakura and their son Crowned Prince Yoshi.”

All mutants knew the stories of what the city had been like before when the Hamato clan ruled: it was a wistful tale of life without the shackles of forced servitude and hostile prejudice. But that all died when they did, and it was useless to dabble in stories of the past. 

Slowly, Donatello slipped the volume back into its place. He would choose another book; hopefully one with a happier ending.


	9. Chapter 9

Leonardo was feeling much better by the next day, though he vowed to never drink sake again. (Or at least not as much as he had.) The whole time was a blur after his first few drinks and all he knew was what Michelangelo had told him about Raphael bringing him home. He had just decided that when Karai dismissed him he would find his friend and thank him, when breakfast was suddenly ground to a halt by the arrival of one of the messengers.

“What does the letter say, Father?” Karai asked, fish and rice forgotten.

Saki took his time answering, rolling the parchment back up and tucking it away. His voice boomed as he announced to the whole room: “The Daimyo is coming the day after tomorrow.”

Like the snap of a tight string, there was a flurry of activity as any servant within earshot immediately darted off in different directions. A visit from such an important guest was not under any circumstances to be taken lightly.

The Daimyo was an extremely powerful Lord whom reined control over a bunch of large landholdings not far from the walls of the Imperial City. A great number of the Samurai population were under his command within those holdings, and while there were no Samurai within the city itself, they made the Daimyo incredibly valuable to the Empire should a threat of war arise. 

“Father, given the circumstances, I would think it best to skip my training today,” Karai suggested. “I too have preparations to make for our honored guest.”

“Yes,” the Emperor agreed with a dismissive wave of his hand, “do what you must.” His lips twisted in disdain as he looked over at Angel. “Do not embarrass me.”

A disgusted expression passed over Angel’s features before she quickly smoothed them out. Saying nothing, she stood and walked calmly from the kitchen with Mikey following.

Leo was a little disappointed as he trailed behind Karai when she left the table as well. Apparently his talk with Raphael wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

Her destination was not her own room, but her sister’s. Knowing from experience that there were be no permission given to enter Karai did not bother to knock, and instead opened the door to let herself and Leonardo inside unannounced.

After a respectful bow to the younger princess, Leonardo sat beside Michelangelo on the window bench. 

“Leonardo’s presence is always more than welcome, but I didn’t give you permission to enter,” Angel told her sibling dryly.

“I did not expect you to.” Karai walked over and settled beside her. Taking the brush Angel held in her hand, Karai began to run it through the other girl’s hair. “What has become of us, Little Sister? We used to be so close.”

“That was before Mother died.”

Karai paused for a moment, then continued her work on the soft purple strands. “That was a difficult time for all of us.”

With no memories of Karai’s own birthmother and Saki’s first wife, Empress Mei, who had died during childbirth, the only maternal (or parental, really, if she were honest with herself) love she’d truly known was from her stepmother, Empress Naomi. 

Naomi had been a beautiful and kind woman, with a loving smile and a melodious voice. Karai could easily remember the three of them – herself, Naomi, and little Angel – spending hours each day together playing and laughing. It was a fairy tale life, happy and sweet. 

But the Empress had never been a fully healthy woman. She had been in and out of her sick bed since childhood, and one especially cold winter when the girls were twelve and seven respectively, Naomi passed away.

“My eyes opened the day we lost Mother. Father’s world is a cold, cruel place,” Angel stated, “and you are bound to be a part of it. You refuse to see the truth.”

“We are family and must stick together. That is the only truth.” Karai set aside the brush and arranged the other girl’s hair into the pigtails she loved so much. “When you’re older, you’ll understand. I just hope that you’ll let me help you.”

Leonardo and Michelangelo touched each other’s hands in discreet affection, and then Leo followed Karai as she stood and left the bedroom.

 

 

The day the Daimyo entered the city everyone swarmed the streets, eager to show their respect to the impressive figure. The white-haired lord did not ride in a carriage as someone of his stature would be expected to but was instead walked with several of his Samurai with him. The golden mask that hid his features from view added to the imposing air he wore around him like a shroud.

“Wow, can you believe all the commotion out here?” Casey smiled, amused. “Makes me glad I don’t have to be a part of it anymore.”

“At least that’s one good thing about being the scum of the city,” Raphael retorted moodily.

The two of them were leaning against the outside wall of the training room building, watching the whole city cluster around the Daimyo like he was the Emperor himself. The only thing his arrival meant to the two Ex-Elite was that they would have to participate in another match in honor of the visitor.

Apparently, nothing said ‘welcome’ like bloodshed.

“Hey,” the human looked thoughtful, “you never did tell me how it went at the storehouse the other night, Raph.”

“Fuck! There’s nothing to tell, alright?” Raphael snapped. “We didn’t do anything!”

“Whoa, easy,” Casey held up his hands placatingly, “what’s this ‘we’? All I wanted to know was how you did in Chō-Han. Win us any money?”

“Oh, uh… yeah,” abashed, the terrapin rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, I forgot. There’s coin in my pouch.”

Casey studied him as he lowered his arms. “Raph, did something happen? I know we don’t usually talk about that kind of stuff, but you can tell me.”

“Nothing happened.”

“You’re sure? Pretty tense reaction for nothing.”

“Just shut up will you?”

A wide, mischievous grin slowly lit up the human’s features. “Ohhh, wait, I get it. You fooled around, didn’t you! Naughty, naughty. What’s the matter, Raphie? Are you in loooove?”

“Don’t be stupid! Really, Casey, you should stop using that thick skull of yours to defend yourself during matches. All those hits have scrambled what little brains you have left!”

Unaffected, the grin stayed firmly in place. “You’ll invite me to the wedding, won’t you?”

Raphael glowered. “I’m going to shave your head in your sleep one of this days. I’m serious. You’ll wake up looking like a dick.”

Casey clasped his hands to his chest and batted his eyes comically. “Would that finally make you love me?”

Raphael sighed.

 

 

The eager cheer of the crowd in the arena sounded like thunder as Leonardo made his way into the training room.

“Raph?”

The emerald turtle tensed, but didn’t turn as he continued to put his gear on. “What the hell are you doing here, Leo? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“I know, but I haven’t had a chance to talk with you since the storehouse, and I--”

Raphael growled, irritated. “I swear if one more person brings that up I’m going to punch them.” He tied his mask securely behind his head. “It’s all anyone ever talks about.”

“What? Why?”

“Well,” Raphael turned to him with a cruel grin, “because you’re really quite the slut when you’re drunk.”

“What…?” Leo’s mouth dropped open in shock. “You’re not serious.”

“Oh, but I am. You were so damn hard and eager. Right in front of everyone you were practically begging me to fuck you.”

“You’re lying!” Leo winced as Raph’s hands caught his wrists with brutal force, yanking him close. “Raphael, let go!”

“No. I’m tired of these games, Leo. So why don’t you finish what you started, hmm? I’ll even let you choose which one I fuck: mouth or ass. I’m kind of in a hurry, though, so don’t expect me to be gentle.”

Raph grunted in surprised pain as Leo’s knee shot up between them and connected with his stomach, forcing the emerald turtle to release him as he stumbled back.

“Why are you acting like this?!” Leo demanded. “If I did that to you, I’m sorry! I never meant to lead you on!”

“Bullshit! You’ve done nothing but lead me on!”

“That’s not true!”

“Yes it is! Are you so damn eager for attention now that your Kizuna is busy all the time?”

“No!” He shook his head. “I thought we were friends!” 

“Friends? You thought I actually cared about you? God, you’re so pathetic,” Raphael sneered. “Don’t you get it, Leo? You aren’t worth anything. You’re a disgusting piece of scum, and you’re better off just laying down to die!”

They both froze. 

Horrified, Raphael realized he had quoted the Feeder who had treated him so poorly when he’d been a child. He watched Leo’s angry/hurt expression turn devastated at the heartless words.

“L-Leo, I… I didn’t mean it…”

He took a step forward, but the other male retreated. Leo’s shell collided with the wall and he slid to the floor. Head bowed, his shoulders began to shake.

Raph dropped to his knees in front of him and reached up cupping Leo’s cheeks. As he guided Leo’s face up, warm tears spilled from beneath the blue mask to pool at Raph’s fingers. 

“Leonardo…” Slowly, Raphael leaned forward and tenderly pressed their lips together. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he murmured between kisses, each one deeper than the last.

Leo’s hands touched Raphael’s plastron, then slowly slid up to rest on strong shoulders as he returned the affection. Their breathing deepened as their lips parted and tongue’s slid together.

The sound of a throat being cleared broke them apart with a startled jolt.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Casey grinned from the doorway, “but it’s our turn, Raphie. You can play later.” He then quickly ducked away.

“’Raphie’? That’s cute,” Leo chuckled at the other male’s annoyed look, then frowned. “Raph, look… it’s pretty obvious that I feel something for you, but Mikey—“

Raphael cut him off with another brief kiss. “I know. We’ll talk about it later, alright? First I have a match to win. You’ll come watch me, right?”

Leonardo smiled softly. “I always do.”


	10. Chapter 10

The arena was constructed as a large circle; the spectators seated above on a high stone wall while the competitors fought below. Chunks of wall were missing in places from years of abuse, knocked away by the collision of bodies and numerous weapons; the ground had become stained with so much blood over the years that the dirt was no longer brown but had more of a rusty red hue. On either side of the arena itself were double doors from which the competitors would emerge, and then walk across the ground to meet in the middle. They would size each other up, looking for obvious weaknesses such as wounds or frailties, as they awaited the sound of the gong. 

The only rule applied during the fights was that there were to be no outside interferences. Other than that anything went, from weapons to ways of attack. There were no fouls or do-overs and sometimes there weren’t even victors. Either the opponents all killed each other, or the fight would be deemed unsatisfactory and Saki would decide that everyone would die regardless.

Leonardo stood in his place in the Emperor’s box just behind Karai, along with Saki, the Daimyo, and one of the Daimyo’s Samurai. 

All of the Samurai the Daimyo brought with him constantly wore intricate helmets to hide their heads and features, and had not said a word. It had left them both mysterious and intimidating.

Down below, Raphael and Casey were the first to emerge from one set of the large, wooden double doors. Raphael’s weapon of choice was his twin sai, while Casey favored a set of two kama: a sickle-like weapon with a long wooden handle and a curved blade at the end.

“I have heard of these two fighters even beyond the walls of the city,” the Daimyo stated as the whole arena exploded in cheers and applause. “They are the favorites to win.”

“Yes, their skills are impressive. It’s quite a shame that they had to end up here,” Saki replied, though there was no remorse in his voice. 

Across the room the second set of doors opened and the competition emerged. The first was a tall and incredibly muscular, strange-looking mutant by the name of Kluh. He would almost appear human if not for the combination of turquoise and purple skin. The second, Kojima, was a boar mutant with a nasty reputation as being as cold and deadly as the sharpest blade. 

“And what of their opponents, I wonder?” the Daimyo remarked upon seeing the two.

The Emperor scoffed, “attempted assassins. My enemies are becoming sloppy in their choices of hirelings if these are the best they can come up with.”

Leonardo braced his hands on the stone rail and leaned forward slightly with a sense of foreboding as the two teams stared each other down. Battling an assassin was even more of a challenge than a regular fighter, because they would have been trained to kill with the quickest and most effective precision, as well as without conscience. 

The loud bang of the large gong sounded above the shout of the crowd, and the competitors sprang forward without hesitation.

The swing of Casey’s kama was blocked by the staff of Kluh’s twin-bladed glaive. Brought close by the short handles of his weapon, Casey barely managed to dodge the punch of Kluh’s other hand. Thick knuckles just grazed his chest, his boots sliding in an effort to gain purchase on the hard ground as he shoved himself backwards. Kluh swung his weapon side to side as he advanced, blade slicing through the air as he sought to tear flesh. Casey caught the blade in the hook of his Kama and forced it down with a grunt of effort that strained his arms. With a quick spin he shoved closer and swung up with his free weapon, blood splattering forth as the sharp metal caught Kluh in his exposed left pectoral. 

With a snarl Kluh lashed out, his large foot colliding with Casey’s stomach. The human flew back with a breathless grunt, knocking up dirt as he landed.

The thick chain of the kusarigama flew with accuracy, wrapping itself tightly around Raphael’s body like a snake. His muscles flexed as he tried to pull himself free. With a hard tug, Kojima yanked the turtle off his feet and towards him as though he were a giant yoyo. Raphael twisted his body and bounced off his shell, catapulting himself above the boar to land behind him. Once on his feet, Raphael shoved backwards again to once more use his shell to knock Kojima away.

The chain loosened and he slipped free. Sais ready he stabbed at Kojima. The boar blocked with a tanto, the sharp weapons locked together as they struggled to overcome the other’s strength. 

Casey rolled, Kluh’s blade sinking into the ground where his head had just been. The human locked both his legs around one of the mutant’s then shoved sideways tumbling them both to the dirt. Jumping to his feet he swung his kama down in a wide arch. 

He saw the flash of metal one second too late. The previously hidden blade sank deep into skin, the hand beneath immediately soaked in lifeblood.

Casey’s blue eyes widened. He stumbled back with a strangled sound, looking down in shock at the knife buried deeply in his stomach.

“Raph…ael,” he grunted, blood leaking from his lips as he dropped to his knees, then collapsed backwards.

“No! Casey!” Grabbing Kojima’s tunic, Raphael rocked backwards onto his shell and connected his feet with the boar’s stomach, shoving him hard as he rolled.

Kojima’s body flew through the air and collided with Kluh’s, sending both of them tumbling backwards in a tangled heap.

Raphael quickly jumped up and ran over to his Kizuna. Casey’s hands clutched at the knife handle, his body shaking as blood continued to soak the ground beneath him. “Shit! Casey… hold on!”

The crowd’s cheering increased to deafening volumes, extremely excited to see that a fighter was down.

Raphael saw red. His already sweaty body began to tremble with rage, fingers tight around the handles of his weapons. He needed to end this. 

With an enraged cry, Raphael rushed forward. He fought like a turtle possessed, thrashing his sais, punching and kicking as he fought Kojima and Kluh simultaneously. He barely felt the pain as their weapons slashed his body, tearing into skin and muscle. 

All he could think about was Casey bleeding out and helpless. The human had saved Raphael’s life when he chose him as his bonded, and Raph would be damned if he repaid him by letting Casey die in the stained dirt like an animal, as so many had before him.

“You… will… not… win!” he screamed with each swipe of his sai.

As though in slow motion, he saw both the kusarigama and the glaive cut through the air towards him. Raphael dropped to his plastron like a stone. Blood rained down on him as the glaive blade found its mark in the boar’s flesh instead of his.

His gut torn open like a hot knife through butter, Kojima’s intestines spilled from his body with a sickening gush, barely missing Raphael as he used all four limbs to shove away like a leaping frog. Dead before he could even cry out, Kojima collapsed amidst his own insides. 

A booted foot connected with Raphael’s side with the sickening crack of a rib, sending him tumbling with a pained cry. His sai tumbled from his hands lost somewhere on the arena floor. Raphael struggled to breathe as he pushed himself up on shaking arms and legs. His adrenaline was leaving him as quickly as his air as another kick sent him rolling again. Dirt stuck to his bloody wounds as he slid to a stop on his carapace. He could do nothing but stare up at Kluh as the mutant raised his glaive high above his head, ready to shove it down into the turtle’s stomach.

Kluh’s body suddenly jerked like a puppet on a string. His lips parted with a choked gurgle, blood trickling out onto his chin. The glaive tumbled from his slack fingers to hit the ground with a thud, followed quickly by his limp, lifeless body.

The savior stood where the dead mutant had just been, bloody katana held tightly in one trembling hand.

“Leo…” Raphael gasped out.

Quickly sheathing his weapon, Leonardo leaned down and slid his arm beneath Raphael, easing him to his feet.

Raph grit his teeth in agony, own arm braced around the other turtle’s neck as he limped from the arena.

Donatello and April were already working desperately on Casey, a sure sign the human was at least still alive for the moment.

As they headed for the doors Leonardo raised his eyes towards the Emperor’s box. Karai was staring down at them in shock while Saki’s expression was absolutely murderous. Leo tightened his hold on Raph’s shell and shoved the door open with his foot.

 

 

“Casey, how’s Casey?” Raphael grunted out as Leonardo helped him lay on a straw bed in the healer’s side of the training room. “Please, Leo…”

“April and Donnie are with him now,” Leonardo assured him. “He’ll be alright.”

The ‘side’ was really only a small area in the far corner where the more severe injuries were stabilized, since April’s building was too far away to drag bleeding and too often half-alive fighters.

While they waited, Leo grabbed a cloth and began to try to clean the dirt from some of Raph’s wounds to keep them from getting infected. He was no healer but it was the least he could do while Donatello and April tried desperately to save Casey’s life. There had been so much blood…

“I don’t know what I’ll do if he dies…” Raph breathed, unable to speak any louder. Every inhale was like a blade digging into his chest.

“Please don’t talk, Raph. Your Kizuna isn’t going to die; he’s in the best care the city has to offer. You’ll both be on your feet in no time.”

“Why did you do that? Save me?”

“I told you not to talk. Besides, you know why,” Leo moved the stained cloth to Raph’s side, but froze as the other turtle’s hand caught his wrist. He raised his eyes to see Raphael giving him an almost pleading look.

“Tell me…”

Leonardo squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and swallowed hard. He kept seeing the fight over and over; kept feeling the nausea and fear in his stomach when he had realized that Raphael wasn’t going to survive the fight. “I couldn’t just stand there and watch you die, Raph. You mean too much to me.”

“You should have…” Raphael replied. “Saki will punish you…”

Leo laid his hand on Raph’s. “I would do anything for those I care about, make no mistake. Whatever happens to me I do not regret my actions today. You’re alive and that’s what matters.”

Casey’s body was carried in by Leatherhead, and laid on another pile of straw bedding. He was extremely pale, unconscious and half-naked. His stomach was completely wrapped in blood-stained bandages.

“C-Casey!” Despite his own injuries, Raphael fought to move, but Leonardo was quick to hold him down. “Is he…?”

“He’s alive. Only time will tell if he’ll stay that way,” April said sadly as she walked over with Donatello beside her. “He’s lost a lot of blood, and there’s only so much my poultices and herbs can do… In the meantime, let’s take care of you, Raphael.”

“Leonardo,” Donnie laid his hand on the blue masked turtle’s shoulder, complete awe on his face, “what you did… it was amazing. You saved Raphael’s life.”

“Thank you, Donatello,” Leo ducked his head. “It was the least I could do. I’m just sorry that I didn’t step in sooner, Saki’s rules be damned. This has to stop.”

The door crashed open, wood splintering as it smacked forcibly into the stone wall behind it. Hun lumbered in with a sneer.

“Easy, you idiot!” April snapped angrily. “There are wounded fighters in here!”

The blond Elite completely disregarded her, his cold black eyes seeking out Leonardo. 

“You,” he pointed at him, “come with me. NOW.”

Eyes downcast, and with the resignation of a criminal going to the gallows, the leaf green turtle obediently followed Hun from the room.


	11. Chapter 11

Through an extremely thick, old wooden door and down a wide, winding stone staircase was the dungeon; dank, chilly, and barely illuminated. The only few lamps hung high on the walls between the cells, the flames of the dying candles flickering like the fluttering wings of tiny moths.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The sound of water droplets as they struck the stone floor somewhere to Leo’s right were the only distraction he had from the pained whimpers, moans and desperate pleas from the other, unseen prisoners he shared the underground chamber with.

Before he’d been shoved into his cell he had caught sight of numerous others, separated only by one layer of stone between each. Mutants and humans were finally of equality when it came to imprisonment it seemed, as Leo could see no differences in the sizes and conditions of any confinements.

The cell itself was decorated with shackles on the each of the three walls; both high for above one’s head as well as low to keep one on the floor. There was the standard old hay in a corner to sleep on for those that weren’t chained up, and a bucket for going to the bathroom. In a pile by the door were old meal trays but no food; any crumbs left behind consumed by the hungry rats that squeaked from within the walls. The constant whistle of breeze made the dungeon all the colder, swaying the lamps as well as the spider webs that decorated every corner.

The turtle huddled in the far end of his cell, his legs bent and his arms around his knees. He was reminded of another time, not so very long ago, when he was locked in a similar prison. And although the one he was currently in was definitely larger than the one he had as a child, he felt no less claustrophobic inside of it. 

He also had no means of protection. They of course had wasted no time taking his swords from him, the blades he so lovingly cared for tossed to the floor somewhere like useless trash.

Torchlight cast the dungeon in an orange glow as four guards walked passed, two humans and two canine mutants, talking low amongst themselves as they ignoring the occupied cell entirely. Leo watched them until the only thing he could see was the torch’s illumination on the walls and floor. He listened to the sound of jiggling of keys, the click of a lock and the screech of rusty hinges. 

“No, no more! Please! I already told you everything!”

“We’ll see about that. Chain him up,” one of the guards said emotionlessly, unmoved by the prisoner’s insistent plea. 

Leo buried his face in his arms, unable to do anything but listen to the sound of chains rattling. The prisoner continued to ramble, begging for mercy. His words turned into cries of pain at the sound of the loud clap of a whip hitting flesh. The sound happened again and again, almost drowned out by the prisoner’s screaming. 

After each hit they would ask him questions to which the prisoner would sob out desperate answers. Obviously unsatisfied with the replies, the torturing continued on and on. The dungeon echoed with it and Leo fought the urge to slap his hands over his ears.

Finally it slowed to a stop.

“I guess you really didn’t know anything,” the guard laughed. “Should have said so before.”

There was a faint whimper in response.

“Should we release the chains?” another asked.

“Why bother? It’s not like he’s going anywhere. We’ll drop him later.”

The cell door shut, the lock turned, and the guards walked passed Leo’s cell as they left again. He hugged his knees tighter and squeezed his eyes shut. There was no doubt in his mind that a similar fate awaited him.

“Leo..?”

His heart stopped. Jumping to his feet, Leo bolted to the front of his cage. His fingers encased the thick, cold bars. “Mikey!?”

His lover emerged from the dark shadow at the base of the stairs and darted over to him. His eyes traced over Leo’s form, frightened expression turning to relief when he was unable to find any injuries.

“Thank god you’re okay. I’m getting you out of here.”

Leo shook his head. “No. You need to go before someone sees you.”

“I can’t just leave you behind!” Mikey insisted, aghast. His hands raised to tightly cover Leo’s. “Do you have any idea what they’ll do to you?”

“I have a pretty good one,” Leo replied uneasily. “But I’ll be alright. Punishment or not I’m still bonded to Karai. They won’t kill me.” 

“Yeah, well where is Karai now?” the sea green turtle retorted. “Why hasn’t she gotten you out of here?”

“Probably because I’m here for a reason.”

“What reason?!” Mikey’s indignant screech made Leo wince. “Donnie told me what happened. You saved Raphael’s life, get thrown in here, and your own Kizuna leaves you to be tortured!”

“Mikey, please. They’ll hear you.” He freed one of his hands and reached through the bars to cup the other’s cheek. “I’ll be okay. But I couldn’t handle it if they hurt you. You have to go.”

“Leo… I…” Mikey bit his lip, visibly struggling with what to do. “I won’t leave you!”

The other prisoners had started to act up as they heard Michelangelo’s voice, rattling their chains and begging to be freed. Panicked that more guards would come to investigate, Leo grabbed Mikey’s other cheek and tugged him closer. 

“Michelangelo, do you love me?”

The answer was instantaneous. “You know I do.”

“Then do as I ask. If the guards find you they’ll hurt you, and then I’ll attack them. And if I attack them, then it won’t matter who I’m bonded to. They’ll kill me in front of you.”

Mikey paled. Leo instantly felt guilty for what he’d said, but it was the only thing he could think of to get through to the other turtle.

“I love you, but you have to go, Mikey. For me.”

Michelangelo swallowed hard. Finally he nodded and pulled back with a determined expression. “Fine, but I’m getting Traximus. You are getting the hell out of here, Leo. I promise you!”

He was gone with a flash of orange, darting back up the twisting stone staircase. Leo waited a moment, and only when he heard the faint sound of the heavy door closing did he allow himself to relax. 

All he could do was wait.

“Well wasn’t that just beautiful?”

Leonardo jumped at the mocking voice, looking around wildly. “Kuma?”

The bear mutant emerged from the far side of the dungeon, a nasty grin on his face as he regarded the turtle. “I came to see if the rumors were true. The little Pet has been a bad, bad boy. Not so high and mighty now, are you?”

“I’ve never acted high and mighty,” Leo insisted. “Why do you refuse to see that?”

“Maybe because I’m not so easily manipulated. Not like that lover of yours.”

“You leave Mikey out of this!”

“Oooh, sore subject?” Kuma snickered. “It must be so hard for the two of you with relationships being forbidden and all. And what of poor Raphael? Does he know you’re still expressing affection with that other little Pet while he so obviously pines for you?”

Leo scowled. “You don’t know a damn thing. Leave me.”

“Well I would, but in addition to checking out the story of you being put down here, I’ve also got a job to do. You see,” Kuma unhooked a ring of keys from his belt and chose one, sliding it easily into the cell door lock. It opened with an ominous click, “I’m the dungeon welcoming committee.”

 

 

Hun had been incredibly pleased to find that Leonardo was already being tenderized by the time he made his way down into the dungeon. Kuma had him chained to the wall with his arms above his head; bruises the size of the bear’s fists already marred the leaf green skin from head to toe, and one of his eyes was swollen shut.

“I’ll take it from here,” Hun stated with a grin, his favorite whip clutched in his right hand. 

“Yes, sir.” The bear surveyed his work on the turtle for a second, an amused chuckle escaping him when Leo glared back with his one good eye. “See you later, Leonardo,” he grinned, leaving without a second look.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” Hun flexed his fingers, then cracked the whip against the floor. “Nothing personal, but you see, Karai really pisses me off. Obviously I can’t really take how I feel out on her. So you’ll just have to be the substitute, being her bonded and all. I really hope you don’t mind.”

Leo didn’t bother to respond to the sarcasm. The chain rattled as he clenched his fists, and braced himself as best he could for impact.

The first strike of the whip was like being hit with fire; Leo’s body attempted to recoil as a scream tore from his lips. He barely had time to catch his breath before the second hit came, and then the third. Every time he was struck his body jerked, his wrists instinctively yanking harder at the cuffs in a vain attempt to get free. Blood flowed freely from the lacerations all over his body – arms, legs, sides, anywhere his plastron couldn’t protect.

Hun wore a maliciously grin the whole time, his black eyes alight with each swing of his massive arm. He thought it almost beautiful the way the turtle’s ruby red blood splattered with each hit. 

He pulled his arm back as far as he could, tightened his muscles, and made to swing again when a large hand clamped down onto his wrist.

“Enough!” Traximus snarled furiously. “You will not hurt him anymore!”

Hun yanked away from him. “Learn your place, Traximus!” he threatened. “I can easily make you next!”

Tail thrashing in his anger, the mutant shoved forward and unlocked Leo’s wrists. Without so much as a glance in Hun’s direction, Traximus scooped the turtle up in his arms and cradled him to his chest like an infant as he hurried from the dungeon. 

Waiting for them at the door, Mikey gasped when he saw the state of the body Traximus held so delicately. “Leo!”

“Come quickly, he needs the healer.” The triceratops didn’t even slow down, leaving Michelangelo to sprint in order to keep up with his longer strides as they hurried through the palace. 

“Trax,” Leo whispered faintly, reaching up to touch his face, “thank you.”

“Shhh, be still, Little One. I’ve got you,” Traximus replied tenderly. He tried not to think about the warmth of Leo’s blood as it trickled through his fingers. “No one’s going to hurt you," he said with conviction. "Never again.”


	12. Chapter 12

“Leo’s going to be fine, Mikey,” Donnie told him, watching the other turtle wring his hands as he paced back and forth outside of April’s shop.

He had suggested that the two of them go outside for some air when it quickly became clear that Michelangelo was unable to keep still for even a moment, his circling and shifting distracting April as she tried to care for the injured katana-wielder. 

“Yeah, no thanks to me,” Michelangelo muttered sadly, “I didn’t do anything to help him.”

“You found Traximus.”

“When it was almost too late. If I hadn’t let Leo convince me to leave then maybe I could have helped him before he was beaten.” He stopped and turned away from Donnie with his head bowed. “For the last eleven years Leo has always taken care of me. He’s helped me train, kept me focused and calm, and comforted me when I’ve been scared or upset. Then when he needs me to take care of him in return, what do I do? I bail. It even doesn’t matter that he told me to, because if it had been the other way around, he would never have left me.”

Donatello stepped forward to place his hand on the other’s trembling shoulder. “Mikey…”

Michelangelo turned to face him, the orange mask dark and wet with tears. “I used to think that Leo and I were so lucky to be chosen by Karai and Angel. We were happy. Completely oblivious to how the real world worked when it came to mutants.” The tears spilled over, slipping down his cheeks to be lost within the dry ground beneath his feet. “But now I understand, Donnie. I get how it is.”

It was like pieces of his heart and soul had been torn away, leaving him bruised and bleeding too. But unlike Leo, Mikey’s wounds were on the inside and could not be healed with bandages and potions.

Donnie guided him closer and wrapped his arms around him. Mikey surged forward into the embrace, burying his face against his friend’s neck and instantly soaking his olive green skin. They held each other tightly; Donnie’s fingers traced through the orange mask tails as he murmured soft, soothing words into Mikey’s ear. 

“It’s going to be okay, Mikey.” He pulled back to look at him, his hands cradling the other turtle’s face. “Our home is a cruel place, it’s true, but you and Leo aren’t alone. You have Angel, Traximus, Leatherhead, April, Casey, Raphael,” Donnie smiled encouragingly, “and you have me.”

He leaned closer, pressing their lips together in a tender kiss. Mikey was still for a moment, and then melted against Donnie as he returned the tender affection. They kept it chaste, but the feeling behind it was so strong and so right that Donnie almost believed the very world turned upside down beneath their feet.

 

>

 

Raphael awoke groggy from his herb-induced sleep that April had put him in, after Leatherhead had helped Casey and him to the Healer’s shop.

“Casey!” he sat up with a start and gasped as pain shot through his ribcage.

Two soft hands immediately latched onto his broad shoulders, guiding him back down. 

“Please, Raphael, you can’t be moving around like that with a cracked rib,” April told him kindly but firmly. “You’ll only cause further damage.”

He stared up at her, trying to search her face for any clues before he asked his question. “How’s Casey?”

“Alive though still unconscious,” she replied with a relieved smile. “He stopped bleeding some time ago, and I’ve been able to stop any possible infections from the knife.”

“So he’ll be okay?”

“I think so.”

Placated, Raphael turned his head to look at the human. But to his immediate horror it wasn’t Casey he saw in the bed beside his, but Leonardo. The leaf green terrapin was mask-less with a compress covering one of his eyes. So many bandages encased his body from shoulders to knees that he resembled a mummy.

“What the hell happened to him!?” the Ex-Elite exploded. He made to sit up again but found himself unable to do so. “Leo!”

“Raphael, stop!” Leatherhead insisted. His own hand replaced April’s to keep the angry turtle down. “Leonardo is fine.”

“He’s not fine! Look at him!” Raph struggled, disregarding his own pain in order to keep trying to get to his friend. “What the fuck happened!” he demanded again.

“Hun happened,” April told him. “When he came for Leonardo he took him to the dungeon.”

Raphael snarled. “Son of a bitch! When I get my hands on that fatheaded, no-necked, little-brained piece of shit I’m going to shove my sai so far up his ass--”

“You won’t touch Hun, Raph,” though weak, Leo’s voice cut Raphael off as quickly as if he’d shouted. “He’d hurt you. Just let it go.”

“You shut up, Leo,” Raphael growled furiously. “What the fuck’s the matter with you?”

Leo slowly turned his head, studying him with his good eye. “It’s alright, Raphael.”

“I said shut up! Hun almost killed you!”

“Obviously he didn’t.”

“Not for lack of trying, by the looks of you. You should have just let me die in the arena, you stupid fucker.”

Leo’s expression only softened in understanding. “You deserve better than to lose your life in such a trivial, cruel way, Raphael. Don’t you see? There’s potential in you. So much strength and passion… You’re important and needed. And you’re worth so much more than you think.”

Raph faltered for a minute, unsure how to reply to a compliment like that. “Why do you have to be so perfect?” he replied, anger draining from him like water through a dying stream. “When we first met I called you Fearless, remember?”

Leo smiled. “I do. You were mocking me.”

“Yeah, I was,” Raph admitted, a smile of his own tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s true though. You are.” 

“For a pampered pet?” Leo asked, remembering the other name Raph had called him.

“No. For one of us.”

Raphael extended his arm, holding it out towards Leo. The other turtle watched him for a moment, then with a determined wince, shifted and moved his own arm. Their three-fingered hands met in the middle of the small space between their beds and clasped tightly.

 

>

 

Traximus stalked down the hallway with angry purpose, his tail thrashing violently behind him with every step he took. He had left Leonardo in April’s care confident that she would do everything she could for him. The only thought in his mind was confronting Karai.

Before he could reach his destination however, a hulking figure stepped into his path.

“Where do you think you’re going, freak?” Hun sneered. “You owe me for ruining my fun earlier.”

“Get out of my way, Hun,” Traximus scowled back. “I don’t have time for your shit right now.”

“That’s twice you’ve forgotten your place today, Traximus.”

“Wow, you actually do know how to count.”

Hun smirked, unaffected by the insult. “Allow me to remind you just what happens to mutant slaves who disobey their masters.” 

His hand went to the Kanabo at his side: a long and wooden, club-like weapon with metal spikes. In eager response, Traximus immediately sought out the handle of his Odachi: a longer-bladed version of the katana, when Hun suddenly stopped cold.

“That is not necessary,” a voice behind the bulky human stated calmly. 

One of the Daimyo’s Samurai emerged from around him, the sharp blade of his katana held high to graze the human’s neck. 

“This is between me and my Kizuna,” Hun started to wrap his fingers around his weapon, but once again stopped as the Samurai shifted closer.

“He is wanted by the Daimyo, Human. You will not fight him today.” Although the Samurai’s features were still hidden by his helmet, the threat in his voice was as clear as the sword he held. “Leave us, and I will not inform your Emperor of your lack of respect for his honored guest.”

Hun paled. Although he was Saki’s highest ranking Elite, that would not save him from the Emperor’s cruel wrath should he do something to upset him. With an angry grunt, he removed his hand from his Kanabo.

“We’ll continue this later, Traximus. You won’t be able to hide behind the Daimyo’s robes forever.”

“I look forward to it, Hun,” the mutant replied, his tone just as cold as the other’s. 

There had never been any kind of true bond between them; only what the law required of a master and slave. Nor did Traximus hold any loyalty to Hun, or anyone else for that matter, except for Leonardo. The turtle meant the world to him and all Traximus cared about was dealing with those that had betrayed him. 

Because of that, he was not pleased with the Samurai’s interference.

“I wanted to fight him,” he said once Hun had stalked away. “You have extremely bad timing, Samurai.”

“So I’ve been told,” the smaller fighter replied, now sounding amused as he slipped his katana back into its sheath on his hip. He lifted his hands and eased off his helmet, revealing himself to be a white, mutant rabbit. “But you see, I couldn’t risk you being harmed by that lummox. Not when my master has deemed you so important to his cause.”

Traximus raised an eye ridge. “Cause? What are you talking about?”

“Come,” the rabbit beckoned him to follow as he turned, heading the opposite way that Hun had gone, “everything will be explained to you once we safe behind a secure door. The walls have ears in this place.”

Unsure if he was making a wise decision or not, but admittedly curious, Traximus followed the other mutant. “So do you have a name?” 

“Usagi,” the rabbit replied, amused again. “I must say it’s an honor to meet you, Traximus.”

“I should be saying that to you. I was unaware that the Daimyo employed mutants to be such great warriors, while we’re treated so poorly within the city walls. If Saki knew--”

“He would most likely consider it an act of treason, considering his laws,” Usagi replied. “But there is a lot he doesn’t know.”

“Such as?”

Instead of answering, Usagi stopped at the room that the Daimyo was currently occupying and opened the door, gesturing Traximus inside. He then followed the larger mutant and closed the door behind them.

The Daimyo sat upon the end of the bed facing them, his War Staff clutched in his hands and another of his Samurai at his side. His golden mask was off, his dark brown eyes kind and full of wisdom.

“Ah, Traximus, I’ve been waiting to speak with you.”

“Daimyo,” Traximus bowed slightly in newfound respect for the human. “It’s my honor.”

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I sent Usagi to fetch you at such a crucial time. There is no doubt that you wish revenge on those who hurt the turtle Leonardo, but I must decree that you hold back on that desire for now.”

Traximus jolted a bit in surprise. “What? How do you know so much about that?”

“We have eyes and ears within the palace,” the Daimyo calmly replied. “There is not much that goes on that we do not know about. The constant oppression that has gone on far too long, for one.”

“Are you not the Emperor’s ally?” Traximus challenged. “Not that I like what goes on, but why would you care?”

“Only in Saki’s mind we are allies. In reality I am in allegiance with someone who believes as I do. The Shredder must be challenged and removed from power.”

A world without the cruel Emperor was what so many dreamed of, but Traximus could not get his hopes up. “Saki has a lot of enemies,” he pointed out. “Who can it possibly be that is strong enough to garner your assistance?”

The Samurai beside the lord removed his helmet as well, revealing himself to be a dark-haired human male. Once more Traximus found himself taken aback. While he had never met the previous Emperor, he had seen paintings in the old library and the man in front of him was undoubtedly a mirror image of a younger Hamato Touma. 

“H-how can this be?” he stammered. “Are you…?”

“My name is Yoshi,” the human boldly stated. “Noble fighter, will you join me in avenging my parents’ death, and taking back my rightful place on the throne?”


	13. Chapter 13

“Can’t I stay up a little while longer?” Yoshi pouted as he dangled limply from his father’s arms. “I never get to stay up late!”

“That’s because you’re only six,” Emperor Touma pointed out. “When you’re older you can stay up all you want. But for now you need plenty of rest.”

He stepped from side to side, carefully avoiding the toys strewn all over the floor: straw and wood samurai and horses, several kendamas, cloth temari balls, and scattered Go pieces. 

“In the morning you’ll be cleaning this mess up, too.”

“Yes, Father,” Yoshi replied grumpily as he was set down on his bed.

Empress Sakura glided in with much more grace than her husband. “Goodnight, my love,” she helped her son get beneath the covers, and kissed his head. “May the night bring you sweet dreams.”

“Perhaps the young prince would like a story first,” Splinter suggested good-naturedly as he walked in.

Yoshi immediately sat up. “Yes! A story, a story, please?”

Touma shared an amused smile with his wife. “Alright,” he agreed. “One story.” He laid a hand on the mutant rat’s shoulder. “But make it short, my friend.”

“I promise,” Splinter nodded.

He sat on the side of the bed as the Emperor and Empress left the room.

“How would you like to hear the story of Momotaro, the boy who defeated a band of demons?” Splinter suggested.

Yoshi’s eyes widened. “Demons?” he asked excitedly.

“Yes. But he did not do it by himself. It was only with the help of some very strong and faithful friends he was able to defeat the evil creatures.”

Splinter spun the ancient tale of the small hero, and by the end of it where Momotaro lived the rest of his life with his family in comfort and peace, the little prince was fast asleep with a smile on his face. Splinter stood and fixed the covers, then quietly left the bedroom closing the door behind him.

 

>

 

The bedroom was just barely alight with silver from the half-moon in the clear, twinkling sky. The sellsword eased open the door and peered inside, his dark eyes seeking out the small, lone occupant half-hidden beneath the covers. Moving slowly to avoid detection he walked further inside, callused fingers tight on the worn hilt of his wakizashi, the shorter of his blades.

Stopped beside the bed, the sellsword raised his weapon above his head and prepared to strike. Not completely heartless his aim would be for the child’s neck, bared in his position asleep on his back. The perfect sharpness of his blade would sever the head from the body so cleanly that the child would die instantly and feel nothing. 

He hoped that such a kindness in the face of murder would be remembered upon his judgment into the afterlife when his own time came.

Outside of the room the other hired attackers had made their move, and all at once the screaming began. Yoshi abruptly awoke, his attention immediately latched onto the sellsword and the gleam of metal. Too frightened to cry out, he could only tremble as his eyes widened.

The sellsword paused and grit his teeth. He thought of the numerous coins he had been offered, enough to keep his belly full for weeks, and with grim resolve swung his blade down. 

“NO!” 

The clang of metal was piercing as a katana blocked his wakizashi’s descent towards Yoshi’s neck. The sellsword stared in surprise at the would-be defender. 

Taking advantage of the other’s momentary shock, Splinter grimaced and gave a hard shove sending the sellsword stumbling back. He then immediately placed his body between him and the child. Though the rat’s tail thrashed in anger, body taunt and ready, he had obviously already had his share of battle. Splinter had a clear limp as he shifted; the cloak he wore was torn in different places, revealing the once-gray fur stained a sticky red.

“You won’t take him!” he bared his teeth in a snarl. “Not while I breathe!”

The sellsword righted his stance. Holding the wakizashi in one hand, the other yanked his katana from its place at his waist. “I’ve heard of you,” he said with a smirk, “Nezumi Splinter. It amuses me that a ninja, best known for infiltration and assassination, would be defending one so innocent. You defy your code.”

“Seems as though we’re both going against our natures,” Splinter shot back. “Ex-samurai.” 

In unison the two rushed forward, blades swung and blocked again and again. 

Yoshi hit the floor with a thud as he dived off his bed onto his stomach, covering his head with his arms. His whole body shook; fear like he’d never felt before coursed through his system. 

Even with the terrified and pained screaming that was still happening outside his room, Yoshi heard the loud squish off flesh, blood and organs as Splinter’s blade sank into the sellsword’s stomach. The human grunted and collapsed onto the floor in a heap.

Splinter quickly scooped Yoshi up in his arm, the other hand clutching his katana, and raced them from the room. Yoshi clung to the rat’s shredded clothing with the overwhelming urge to throw up as they scrambled passed other sellswords and guards engaged in battle.   
Bodies littered the floor in crimson pools like discarded, broken toys; some of them still moved, some begged for help, and others just stared lifelessly into nothing.

“Do not look, Yoshi,” Splinter urged him.

But the child felt almost compelled to see. He recognized some of the servants and guards as the people he had contact with every day, and the sight of each of them burned into his memory and upon his heart.

Splinter swung his blade as they went, deflecting attacks as well as cutting down as many as he could in order to get passed. Blood rained down on them like horrific raindrops, splattering both rat and child as they made their way through twisting corridors and passed broken doors.

Empress Sakura appeared at entrance to the kitchen, desperately signaling for their attention. “Splinter!”

Once they were all inside she slammed the door closed behind them; immediately the wood shuddered as fists and weapons began to pound against it. 

“The Emperor?” Splinter panted, his exhausted body trembling with the effort of holding both himself and Yoshi upright.

The clear anguish on her face, coupled with the sight of the front of her nightgown completely covered with fresh, glistening blood answered his question. 

“There was no warning,” she said softly, pained. “With so many… we had no chance.” Forcing herself into action she moved fast, urging Splinter into the connecting pantry. “Quickly, you must take Yoshi and escape.” Her hands traced over the wall to a loose stone, and with a hard push it swung back along with several others to reveal a hidden door. “This tunnel will lead you out the back of the palace. Get as far away as you can. Don’t look back.”

“Mommy!” Yoshi reached for her, clinging to her neck as she embraced him tightly. “I’m not leaving you!”

They could hear the kitchen door cracking like an egg.

“You have to come!” Splinter insisted desperately. “They mean to destroy all of us. When they find you, they’ll kill you!”

“No. I’ll be able to keep them distracted long enough for the two of you to get away.” Sakura kissed Yoshi’s hair and pulled away from him. “You must be brave, darling. Splinter will protect you,” she whispered to him. “Your father and I love you very much, and someday we’ll be together again.”

“Please!” Yoshi sobbed, trying desperately to hold onto her. “Mommy, please!”

Wood snapped as the sellswords broke through.

“Go! Now!” Sakura shoved Yoshi back into the rat mutant’s arms into the hidden tunnel, closing the entrance behind them.

Splinter had to crouch down, moving as fast as he could while Yoshi squirmed and bawled, trying desperately to get back to his mother. 

The last thing they heard was her scream.

“We managed to escape the city. Splinter and I traveled for a week, moving only in the dark of night so that we could remain undetected. Finally we reached the home of a wise, gentle man only referred to as the Ancient One. He took us in and together he and Splinter raised and trained me in the ways of Bushido. I found friendship and love in my new life. I married. But I’ve never forgotten that dark, terrible day,” Yoshi finished his tale. “I’ve been waiting for the time to be right to seek justice not only for the deaths of my parents and friends, but for all of the Imperial City.”

“We all know the story of the Massacre, but to witness it as a child, I could never imagine...” Traximus’ fists were clenched so hard his fingers ached. “He raised his eyes to regard the human. “I’m assuming you didn’t come into enemy territory without a plan.”

Yoshi smiled. “So by that, I take it you’re willing to join us?”

The triceratops mutant nodded, resolute. “I’ll do everything I can to help.”

 

>

 

The first time Karai had seen a killing was at the age of ten when she witnessed the Games. An extremely violent match, she’d watched with wide, shocked eyes as the warriors hacked each other down amidst the roar of the crowd and her father’s own amused chuckles.

She had burst into tears.

“Don’t cry for them,” Saki seemed irritated by her feelings. “They gladly give their lives for our entertainment.”

“’Gladly’?” Karai looked down into the arena. Only one was left standing and just barely, his body heaving and convulsing as he tried desperately to breathe. Her green eyes fogged as fresh tears swam down her cheeks. “But he’s hurt. Why would they want to do this?”

“Because it’s their duty. We are the leaders of this city, Karai, and everyone else is only here to serve us. It’s an honor for them to make us happy even if it brings their deaths. We must show strength in the face of their weaknesses.”

Taking his words to heart, Karai spent the next ten years watching the Games with a sense of detachment. She never flinched at the sight of blood, the cries of pain, the desperate efforts to stay alive and the crumbled, messy bodies of the dead. The warriors themselves meant nothing to her except for the entertainment they were, as her father pointed it, honored to be a part of.

Until her beloved Leonardo jumped into the fray.

He had actually leapt down from the Emperor’s box and into the crowd of spectators below. Distantly through her shock, Karai admired his grace as he continued without a moment’s hesitation and jumped into the Arena. 

Afterwards, the biggest thing that stood out in her mind was the sheer defiance on her Leonardo’s face as he raised his head to look up at the Emperor’s box. From the way Saki furiously slammed his fist down onto the stone railing she knew that he had seen it too.

“Get him,” Saki ordered Hun in a low, angry voice.

Karai immediately spun to face him. “Please, don’t hurt him, Father. I don’t know what came over Leonardo, but I’ll talk to him.”

“See that you do,” Saki scowled. “I will not tolerate rebellion. In the meantime, Hun will see to it that your turtle is… accommodated where he belongs.”

Hun smirked and bowed. “It will be my pleasure.”

Karai had retired to her bedroom in order to gather her thoughts and try to figure out what to say. She didn’t want to be harsh with her Kizuna; all she wanted was to understand what had come over him. Why he had done that. Always by her side during matches, he too had witnessed death so many times. Why this time had he felt the need to save one of the fighters, that emerald turtle? As far as Karai knew they had never even met.

Perhaps it was kinship? After all they were both the same species.

Karai stood from the end of her bed and walked to her door; the guard on the other side stood to attention as she opened it. He was young and inexperienced, which was why he was positioned at her room instead of in the city like the more seasoned of the guards.

“Crowned Princess?”

“Go to Leonardo’s room and bring him to me,” Karai ordered him. “I wish to speak to him.”

To her surprise, the human began to look nervous as he shifted from foot to foot.  
“What are you waiting for?”

“Your Kizuna isn’t in his room, Ma’am,” he replied reluctantly. He began to sweat a bit as she narrowed her eyes.

“And where exactly is he then?” she asked angrily. “What has Hun done with him?”

“He’s… um… in the dungeons. Emperor’s orders.”

“How dare you!” Karai yanked the door open the rest of the way and slapped the guard across his face, causing his helmet to go flying to the floor. “Father would never! Hun must have acted on his own!”

“Y-yes, Ma’am,” the guard stuttered, his cheek already reddening. “I’m sorry.”

“Go get him and bring him to me! Now!”

Without even bothering to grab his helmet he bolted down the hallway. Karai swiftly closed the door and leaned her back against him, breathing heavily as she tried to calm down. Her poor Leonardo was stuck in that awful place, alone and scared, while she muttered to herself in the warm confines of her comfortable room. 

“I’ll make it up to him,” she promised herself. “I’ll take care of him and everything will be alright again.”


	14. Chapter 14

Casey returned to the conscious world weak and numb, his body feeling as though it wasn’t his own. His blue eyes opened to a fuzzy world; he blinked several times then groaned.

“Ugh… did I have to wake up to your ugly mug?” he asked the figure staring down at him.

Raphael snorted. “Charming as always, Bonehead. It’s about time. I’ve been waiting to kick the shit out of you for almost dying on me.”

“Aww… I’m so glad you care.” Casey slowly raised an arm and carefully slid his fingers over the wrappings that encased his belly. He hissed when even the tiny movement sent daggers of pain through him. “Fuck… remind me never to get stabbed again. It sucks.”

“Never get stabbed again,” the turtle deadpanned.

“Gee, thanks.” Casey looked his Kizuna over, taking in the stiff way Raphael was sitting on the side of his bed, as well as the bandages that wrapped around his upper body. “So what happened to you?”

“Couple of cracked ribs, nothing major. I’ve got a week to go before I’m out of here.”

“That’s it? How long was I out?”

“Three weeks, you lazy son of a bitch. Like I said, I’ve been eager to kick your ass.”

“Like you could.”

Casey turned his head to look around the shop. Although he and Raph were alone at the moment, from the unkempt appearance of the other two beds it was apparent they had been used recently. One was obviously Raphael’s, but the other one..?

“Was someone else here?”

“Yeah, Leonardo was for a while. But Karai insisted that she take care of him so whatever.”

There was something akin to disappointment in his voice, but before Casey could call him on it or ask why the Crowned Princess’ Kizuna was even there in the first place, April appeared from the backroom. When she saw that Casey was conscious she quickly came over to check on his bandages and assess the amount of pain he was in. Raphael faded into the background as the injured human let himself bask in the attention of the pretty Healer.

Raphael simply smirked as the two forgot all about him. He’d been distracted himself a little too much lately when it came to attraction, so he supposed he could forgive Casey’s attention shift.

With that thought, the amused look on his face faded into agitation as he sighed. He and Leo hadn’t had a moment alone to talk since their initial conversation after he awoke. 

Even when Donatello and April were asleep for the night Michelangelo was still there. He had refused to leave Leo’s side for more than a few moments and did everything for him. He changed Leo’s bandages, put salve on his wounds, kept clean compresses on his eye, and even managed to squeeze onto the bed to sleep beside him.

It would have been sweet if Raph hadn’t been so damn jealous. 

“Since you’re awake, now is a good time to change your bandages again,” April told Casey cheerfully, “and this time you can actually tell me how you’re feeling.”

“Like someone shoved a knife in my stomach,” Casey snorted, “but go ahead. Knock yourself out.”

She rolled her eyes. “How helpful of you.”

Raphael rose to his feet to go back to his own bed and give them some room. A gentle hand caught his arm.

“Need help?” Donatello offered with a friendly smile. 

“I’m not a feeble old man, Donnie,” Raphael’s attempt to pull away was cut short with a pained grunt as his ribs protested the rough movement.

“Not feeble. Just still healing.” The purple masked turtle kept his hand on Raph’s arm despite the other’s irritation, and walked him back to his own bed. “Really you’ll be feeling better very soon.”

“You’ve been saying that for days.” Raph sank gratefully onto the bed. “So I bet you’re glad that Michelangelo is gone.”

Donnie looked surprised. “Why would you say that?”

“Because the two of you avoided any sort of eye contact almost the entire time Leo was here. What happened?”

“Nothing,” he answered a little too quickly, sinking down on the straw mattress beside his friend. “What could possibly have happened?”

Raph shook his head. “Hell if I know. But that guy seems pretty easy to get along with, so explain to me why you were so uneasy with each other all of a sudden.”

“Seriously? I thought you were all, ‘grrr… girly, touchy-feely emotions bad. Macho, alpha-male anger good’.”

“What can I say? I’m expanding my horizons. Plus I kind of owe you for patching me up all those times. Come on, spill to Uncle Raphie.”

Donnie laughed. “That’s creepy. Seriously though there’s nothing to tell.”

Raph didn’t believe him. “Are you fighting?” he pressed. 

“No.”

“Oh. Then it’s sexual tension.”

“What?” Donnie squeaked. “How the heck did you come to that conclusion?”

“Experience,” Raph shrugged a little. “Only two things would cause such behavior, Don. Either you’re mad at each other, or you want to fuck.”

“Why does everything come down to sex with you? There’s more to life than fornication.”

“Uh huh, sure,” the emerald turtle waved his hand dismissively, obviously unconvinced. “Stop changing the subject and admit it. You want Michelangelo.”

The answer was automatic. “He’s already taken.”

“So you do want him.”

Donnie fidgeted uncomfortably. “Don’t smirk at me like that. I… he… we… damn it, it was just a kiss! There’s nothing wrong with that!”

“Of course there’s not. So he kissed you?”

“No… I started it. He was just so upset over what happened; it was like his whole view of the world shattered. I wanted to comfort him.”

“With your lips?”

“He kissed me back!” the olive green turtle snapped defensively. His shoulders sagged and he turned away.

Raphael could clearly see the guilt and hurt Donnie had wrapped himself in like a shroud. Though perhaps it was because he’d felt the exact same emotions over the past few weeks.

“I understand how you’re feeling,” he laid his hand on his friend’s forearm, giving it a light squeeze. “I went through the same things when I kissed Leonardo.”

Donnie’s head whipped around so fast his mask tails struck Raph across his nose. “You did what?!”

April and Casey immediately focused on them from across the room. “Everything alright, Don?” the Healer asked.

“Erm… yes. Sorry, April.” Donnie gave his Kizuna a sheepish smile, and when she’d turned her attention back to Casey, he looked at Raph again with wide eyes. “When did you kiss Leo?”

“In the training room, right before the last fight. But technically he kissed me first when we went to the storehouse. He was completely wasted though, and thought I was Mikey, so I’m not sure that even counts.”

Donnie stared at him. “I think you better start from the beginning.”

 

>

 

“Really, Karai, I’m alright now. I’d like Michelangelo and me to be able to go back to our room,” Leo tried once again.

His Kizuna had taken him to her room a few days prior after April had finally relented he could leave her care. And while he appreciated Karai’s concern over his wellbeing, he was extremely uncomfortable and he knew Mikey was, too.

With Angel’s consent Karai had let the two turtles stay together, satisfied that Mikey could adequately care for Leo when she had to leave the room. But the two teens knew they would be punished severely the longer they stayed if Saki were to find out. 

As much as Leo trusted his Bonded, he had to protect Mikey.

“Back to that filthy place?” Karai looked completely flabbergasted. “If I had only known what you were sleeping in all those years… Neither one of you even have your own bedding.”

She had gone to their room to retrieve their things when it was decided that Leonardo and Michelangelo would stay with her for a while, only to discover the truth of the kinds of conditions they were subject to on a nightly basis. It broke her heart and horrified her all at the same time; feelings that Angel shared when she told her younger sister what she’d discovered.

In tears, Angel had immediately gone to Michelangelo and embraced him tightly, apologizing over and over until he finally pleaded with her to stop.

“Um… we’ve kind of gotten used to it,” Mikey replied uncomfortably. “Besides all mutants have rooms similar to that.”

“But you two are different,” Angel insisted. 

Mikey ducked his head avoiding all eye contact, his fingers tight enough on Leo’s wrist to make his hand go numb from lack of circulation. “No, we’re not.”

Leonardo watched him carefully. He wanted desperately to talk to the other turtle about the black cloud that had been hanging over his head, especially since Leo was positive that it had to do with more than his injuries, but they hadn’t had a decent moment alone since all this started.

“We’re fine as long as we’re together.” Leo looked at Karai. “Please.”

Their eyes held for a long moment, and then she sighed. “Alright, you can return tonight. But not before I get some warmer bedding in there at least. Come, Little Sister, we need to get to dinner.”

Angel gave Mikey a hug and kissed Leo’s forehead, then followed the elder girl out of the room. 

“Is there anything I can get you, Leo?” Mikey offered once they were alone. “Water? Something to eat? There’s still some fruit left on the tray from this morning.”

Leo shook his head and sat up, leaning against the wall behind him. Karai’s makeshift bed for them was a pile of soft blankets and pillows set up on the floor near the fireplace. It was like sleeping on clouds after spending so many years on the freezing cold stone floor of their room.

“No thank you, Mikey. What I want is for you to talk to me.”

Michelangelo’s responding smile was lacking the carefree happiness he had always had before. “I am talking to you.”

“I’ve known you long enough that you can’t fool me. I can read you like a book, and you’re holding back.” Leo raised his hand to cup the other turtle’s cheek. “What’s bothering you?”

To his complete surprise, Mikey began to cry.

“Why do you have to be so protective all the time?” he sniffed, shoulders trembling. “Over me, over Raphael… and it does nothing but get you hurt!”

Overcome with the need to comfort, Leo wrapped his arms around Mikey as best he could. His body still ached a little; scars marked his flesh from his savage beating, but thanks to April and Donnie’s poultices they were hardly noticeable. “I’m healed, Mikey. It’s alright. We can move on now. Besides you haven’t hurt me.”

“Yes I did, you just don’t know about it yet.” 

Mikey buried his face against his lover’s neck like he was afraid to look at him.

Leo’s hand ran down over the other’s shell. “What do you mean? Please tell me.”

There was a long moment where the only sounds were Leo’s breathing, Mikey’s sniffling, and the soft crackle of the fire nearby. 

“I kissed Donatello.”

Leo stiffened. 

Immediately taking the reaction he wrong way, Mikey desperately pulled back. “I didn’t mean to! I was upset after what happened to you, so we were talking outside and he kissed me. And I kissed back. I’m so sorry, Leo! Please don’t hate me!”

Leo grabbed is wrist and tugged him closer, enveloping his lover in another tight embrace. “It’s okay. Shhh… calm down. I could never hate you, Mikey.”

Mikey clung to him like a lifeline. “Never?”

“No, never. There is nothing you could possibly do to make me hate you.”

“Are you angry with me?” 

“No. The truth is,” Leo closed his eyes with a guilty sigh, “Raphael and I have kissed, too.”

“What?” Michelangelo yanked himself backwards. “When?”

“Apparently when I was drunk, and then again… before the last match.” He opened his eyes. “Michelangelo, if anyone has a right to be upset, it’s you. I’m so sorry. I never meant to betray you. And I--”

“Do you love him?”

He started. “I love you, Mikey.”

“But…?”

“But I don’t know what I feel for Raph. All I know is there’s something about him. I’m so sorry,” he said again. “You have every right to hate me.”

Mikey shook his head. “I could never hate you,” he said, repeating Leo’s earlier words. “Honestly I’m hurt and confused that you kept this from me. But considering what happened between Donnie and I, I’d be a complete hypocrite if I hated you.” Leaning down he rested his cheek against Leo’s plastron, and laid his arm across his stomach. “What’re we going to do?”

Leo wrapped his own arm around Mikey’s shoulders, brushing a kiss against his head. “I don’t know. But whatever happens with us, as well as with Raph and Donnie, we’ll figure it out together.”

 

>

 

By the time another week had passed and Raph was finally able to get out of the Healer’s shop, he was about ready to climb the damn walls. Casey was still stuck there for an undetermined amount of time so the turtle was on his own.

“It’s the middle of the night, Raph,” Donnie protested. “Shouldn’t you at least wait until morning to go?”

“No way. I’m finally feeling good and I’m out of here,” Raph replied determinedly. “No offense Donnie but I’m getting claustrophobic. Tell Casey I’ll visit him later.”

The night was a little cold but clear, the sky twinkling like a sea of diamonds. Raphael walked slowly through the streets with no particular destination in mind. He briefly considered going to the storehouse but almost immediately decided against it. Although a drink or two sounded good the last thing he needed was to be surrounded with questions and accusations.

By the time the sun began to peak up over horizon, the light found Raph sitting back atop of April’s building. With his shell to the rough stone of the chimney he watched the city begin to wake and come alive. Merchants emerged from their homes, gathered their supplies and headed for the market, and patrolling guards switched their posts.

Normal people and mutants living normal, uninteresting lives. He envied them.

Movement from the back alley entrance at the nearby palace caught his peripheral vision. Raphael turned his head and leaned forward a little in order to see better.

A Samurai emerged and looked around. Finding the coast clear he turned back to the dark-haired woman that had followed him out. He reached up and tenderly cupped her cheek.   
The servant touched the back of the hand on her face; her lips moved as she spoke to the man’s helmeted features, but Raph was too far away to make out the words.

The Samurai slowly backed away, letting his hand fall back to his side only when he had no choice but to do so. The two stared at each other for another short, bittersweet moment, and then he turned and walked away. The woman hugged herself against the morning chill as she watched him go, and only when the Samurai had turned a corner out of sight did she disappear back down the alleyway. 

Raphael straightened and jumped down from the roof, landing in a crouch with a soft thud upon the ground. It wasn’t unusual for Samurai to have sexual interaction with servants as they visited the city, everyone knew that, but the scene the turtle had just witnessed clearly spoke of feelings much deeper than just physical.

“Something’s happening here,” he muttered to himself.

“That is a fact you must keep to yourself.”

The emerald turtle startled and whipped around, already on the defensive with fists raised. But he quickly lowered them at the familiar figure that approached. “Traximus?”

“It’s good to see you up and about, my friend,” the taller mutant greeted. “I’ve been waiting for you to be so we could talk.”

“Talk about what? And what exactly did you mean about keeping that fact to myself?”

“What you just saw,” Traximus gestured to the alleyway entrance. “There is indeed something happening and I want to ask for your help to make sure that it continues.”

“What, you mean a tryst between two humans?” Raph snorted. “Like I give a crap what they do.”

Traximus moved closer, lowering his voice so that his words could only be heard by the two of them. “Those two humans are in the middle of something very important. The future of all of us. I’ve given my word to help but more allies are needed if these changes are going to be successful. That’s where you come in.”

“You mean a revolution?” Raph arched an eyeridge. “Have you lost your mind? There’s no way in hell anyone is going to be able to overthrow Saki. Especially not some Samurai and his servant girlfriend. You’ve been drinking too much, Trax.”

The triceratops mutant merely smiled. “Come, let’s go somewhere we can talk privately. I have a story to tell you, Raphael, and by the end of it I think you’ll change your mind.”


	15. Chapter 15

There weren’t a lot of places in the Imperial City where mutants could easily talk without someone listening in, and so in order to protect what they were about to discuss, Traximus had a different idea in mind.

“Wait a minute,” Raphael stopped in his tracks, staring wide-eyed at the large gate in front of them, “we’re leaving the city? Are we allowed to do that?”

“Just for a little while, and not generally,” Traximus replied. “Like I said we have a lot to talk about, and I can’t risk anyone overhearing what I’m going to say. It would ruin everything.”

He kept his steady, confident stride and after a moment Raphael hastened to catch up with him. Neither one of them, like most of the people and mutants that inhabited the great city, had never been outside of the massive walls. But there were allies on the other side whereas finding someone whose loyalty was without question within was extremely difficult.

A human guard stepped in front of Traximus as he and Raphael reached the gate. His hand was tight on the thick, tall spear he held within his fingers. His gray eyes, partially hidden beneath the helmet on his head, were narrowed and cold.

“State your business with leaving the Imperial City,” he said in a booming, authoritative voice.

The other few guards, some on top of the wall above and others nearby, immediately gave the mutants their full attention. Raphael looked up to see the guards near the gears of the gate ready their bow and arrows.

The turtle’s eyes narrowed. If he and Traximus had been human, he doubted that such drastic measures would be taken. If the guards had been mutants, they would have given Traximus the respect he deserved. But the mutant populations of the guard were never permitted such an important station as protecting the only entrance and exit to Emperor Oroku’s precious Imperial City.

“Official business for the Daimyo,” Traximus replied. 

He reached into the leather pouch at his side and pulled out a golden seal, showing it to the guard. The seal, perfectly around, thick, and half the size of Traximus’ palm, clearly depicted an image of the Daimyo’s staff with a several intertwining lightning bolt strikes behind it.

The human set his spear aside and took it. He shifted the seal between his fingers, flipped it over a few times, picked at it with his thumbnail, then with a curt nod handed it back. He grabbed his spear and stepped aside, arm raised to signal the men on top of the wall. “Let them through!”

There was the thud of the release, the clang of the crank, and the doors slowly parted. Traximus carefully kept his expression neutral as he led Raphael through the gates and over the bridge. Only when the wooden doors slid closed with heavy thuds behind them did he let his eyes take in the sight before them with eagerness.

Across the bridge there was green grass as far as the eye could see. The skies seemed so much bluer, and the air fresher. It was like stepping into a whole different world. In the distance they could see the Daimyo’s village, connected to the City by a long, twisted dirt road.

“Let’s go,” he said to Raphael, and began to head towards it.

For Raphael, being out of the City felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He suddenly felt lighter; a feel of contentment washed over his entire body.

“It’s amazing…” he muttered as he followed his taller friend over the stone bridge. “If I had known it was like this…”

“It would have just made you miserable,” Traximus finished, “because you would have felt even more like a prisoner.”

“Why are we out here now, then? Going back is going to be even more difficult.”

“True. But at least now we know what we can look forward to. Once Saki is erased from the throne, the gates will be open for everyone to come and go as they please.”

Raphael snorted in disbelief. “Yeah, right. You can’t honestly expect that to be true, Traximus. Why would you even think that?”

“It’s one of the promises that Hamato Yoshi had given when he swore to take his rightful place.”

Raphael caught his thick wrist. “Whoa, hold on. You’re telling me that Hamato Yoshi is _alive_? You’re screwing with me, aren’t you.”  
Traximus smiled down at him. “As I said, Raphael, I have a story to tell you.”

 

>

 

The lock to the storage room wasn’t difficult to find after Raph had followed Traximus’ instructions. It was ironic a little bit, because it wasn’t even that long before that the dinosaur mutant had been unhappy with Raphael’s desire to entire the palace, and now had given him the task of doing just that.

Raph entered the room and stopped for a moment to let his amber eyes adjust to the silver light of the moon as it shone into the window. All the secret work he was helping to do had to wait so long between jobs because it could only be accomplished by full moon light. It was much too risky to be caught with a lit torch when he wasn’t supposed to be in the palace at all.

The death penalty would kind of put a damper on progress.

The door suddenly squeaked open behind him and Raphael spun around, Sai’s drawn and heart pounding. His weapons lowered when he recognized the familiar mutant who stared back at him.

“Close the fucking door, Leo. Do you want me to get caught?”

Leo did so blindly, as he continued to gawk at him. “Raphael? Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“Oh, you know, here and there,” Raphael shrugged, slipping his Sai back into his belt. “I’ve been helping Traximus out with a project.”

“A project?” Leo raised an eyeridge. “Does that mean you’re not going to fight in the Games anymore?” he asked hopefully.

“Not while Casey’s still recovering. After he gets better who can say?” 

Raphael tried to go around him, only for Leo to immediately move over and block his way again. 

“Wait, don’t go yet. Can’t we talk for a little while?”

“What’s there to talk about?”

“You can’t seriously be asking that. We haven’t had any time to speak to each other since that night in the Healer’s.”

“Yeah, so?” Raphael crossed his arms, defensive. “What’s your point?”

“Seriously?” Leo sighed. “After all the things we said you’re just going to pretend it didn’t happen?”

“For fuck’s sake, Leo, just drop it. I’m too damn busy these days to deal with your bullshit and drama. Now let me go before I--”

Leo surged forward and covered Raphael’s mouth with his own, cutting him off midsentence. Raph stilled for only a second, then his arms wrapped around the other turtle’s shell holding their bodies tight together. His own lips slid over Leo’s, parting slightly to teasing swipes of his tongue. 

Leo churred and parted his mouth, meeting Raph’s tongue with his own. He dragged his fingers over Raph’s exposed sides between the edges of his plastron and shell, causing the more muscular turtle to shiver. Desire shot through him like an arrow. 

Before Raph even registered that they had moved, he found that Leo had pinned him to the wall. That was new, but the emerald turtle was in no way going to protest. They kissed over and over, and it took Raph’s hazy mind a moment to realize that Leo was muttering something between the feverish touches of their mouths.

“Don’t,” he pleaded softy each time. “Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.”

Confused, Raphael forced himself to pull back. He reached up and cupped the other turtle’s face in his hands. “Don’t what, Leo?”

Instead of answering, Leo dove forward for another desperate kiss. Raph moaned as one of the other’s hands moved down the length of his plastron to the slit between his legs. Leo worked quickly at the passage, and as soon as it parted he took the hard length that emerged into the warmth of his hand.

Raph’s hips bucked. Breaking the kiss with a breathy curse, he hands ghosted up over Leo’s forearms and biceps, across broad shoulders, and down his shell. “Tighten your fingers a little,” he churred. “Ah _yeah_ … that’s it..”

He started to thrust, rocking against Leo’s pumping fist. Raph’s mouth latched the side of Leo’s neck, licking and kissing as he rode the pleasure the other turtle was giving him. Their bodies close, it took all of Raph’s willpower to keep from just shoving Leo to the floor and thrusting into him. Instead he moved one hand to grasp the blue masked turtle’s ass, fingers trailing to the most sensitive part of him.  
Leo jumped a little as Raph’s thick digit found his entrance. He immediately shook his head. “No,” Leo insisted, tightening his fingers on the other male’s dick. 

Raph moaned; precome leaked out his length to gather on Leo’s pumping hand. “Never been fucked?” he guessed, smirking darkly. “Never been played with? Oh that’s a shame. Michelangelo’s really missing out.”

“Don’t talk about him. Not right now,” Leo pleaded. 

He and Mikey didn’t share intimacy anymore, not since their talk about Raph and Donnie in Karai’s room. But they were still best friends and the last thing he wanted was to picture his sweet ex-lover’s face while he was touching someone else. 

He began to loosen his hand and move away, only for Raph to grab him with a low, possessive growl.

“Oh no you don’t, Leo. You started this.”

“Raph--”

Leo’s protest was cut off by the emerald turtle’s hard, desperate kiss. One hand on the back of Leo’s neck to keep him close, Raph’s other hand hooked behind the leaf green turtle’s left thigh and forcibly lifted it up against Raph’s side. 

“I tried to walk away from you,” he hissed, his hard length riding the space between Leo’s legs and rubbing up against the bottom of his plastron. “You wouldn’t let me. Why is that, Leo?”

Leo clutched desperately at Raph’s shoulders, his face ducked down to hide against the other male’s neck. He fought with every fiber of his being to keep from releasing his own aching and desperate length that was barely hidden inside his slit. “I d-didn’t want you to go,” he stuttered. 

His hips bucked as Raph gave a particularly hard thrust, leaving smears of more precome on Leo’s body. 

“And why is that, I wonder?” Raph pressed, voice thick and husky. “Wait. I know. It’s because you want me, and you know how much I want you. Just let me fuck you.” His fingers of his free hand tightened on the blue tails of Leo’s mask and he yanked, forcing Leo to raise his head and meet Raph’s eyes. “Let me be the first inside you, Leo, and I swear I’ll make it amazing.”

Leo whimpered. “Can’t…”

“I wonder what Michelangelo would think, seeing you like this?” Raph asked bitterly. “You’re so damn turned on I can practically taste it, riding my dick between your thighs like the slut you are. You’re already cheating on him, Leo. Might as well take it another step.”

He dropped Leo’s leg and grabbed his shoulders, shoving on onto his knees. Raph cupped the back of Leo’s head again and shifted closer. Raph released a throaty groan as he was taken into that sinfully talented mouth. His hand cupped the back of Leo’s head, keeping him from pulling back as he slowly, carefully, began to rock his hips. 

“Oh fuck, yes…” he breathed.

Ever since their first kiss, Leo warm and flushed from being intoxicated, Raph had ached to feel that hot mouth around him. Now that he had it, he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. The emerald turtle looked down, watching hungrily as Leo began to bob his head back and forth. He sucked as he took Raph’s length in, and teased him with his tongue as he withdrew. The sight of himself disappearing in and out of that mouth, dick wet with saliva, coupled with the feel of that tongue was going to end him too soon. 

He cupped both hands on Leo’s cheeks, holding him still. He closed his eyes tight, trying to maintain some semblance of control for a moment. Even without being able to move, Leo was not completely still. His tongue continued to rub and lick at the thick length in his mouth. With an aroused growl, Raph began to thrust. Distantly still focused, he was careful not to go too deep as to choke the other male. He pulled out all the way, giving Leo a chance to breath, then pushed back inside. He kept that rhythm up, the sound of Leo’s quick breaths as he was released almost as arousing as the feel of his oh, so damn talented mouth around him. He made throaty little grunting sounds with each shove of his hips, every part of him aching for the sweet release that was building inside of him.

“Gonna come…” Raph hissed as he pulled back one more time.

Leo shifted to go down on him again but Raph wouldn’t let him. One of the emerald hands tightened on the side of his face. Raph’s other hand grabbed his own dick, throbbing and wet, and started to jerk it hard and fast. Raph’s breath hitched, his body stiffened, and with a low, triumphant groan, semen splattered onto Leo’s face and neck.

Leo ran his own hands over Raph’s thighs and hips, fingertips caressing as the rest of him kept still. Spent and panting, Raph dropped to his knees. He jerked Leo forward and went to work, hungrily licking his own essence from the leaf green skin. Once finished his mouth found Leo’s, tongue shoved inside to share the bitter-sweet taste.

As the haze of arousal and frustration began to fade, it dawned on Raph what he’d done. He wrapped his arms around Leo’s shell and hugged him tight.

“Leo, I’m so fucking sorry! I didn’t… _shit_ I never meant to…”

“No,” Leo shook his head. He didn’t return the embrace, arms limp at his sides, but he didn’t pull away either. “It’s okay, Raphael, you were right before. I’m the one who kept you from walking away, and I’m the one that touched you first. I’ve been practically taunting and teasing you this whole time with my attraction to you, and yours to me. Besides you didn’t hurt me.”

“That doesn’t make it right.” Raph pulled back a little and raised his hand, thumb running over Leo’s mouth. “You have to stay away from me, Leo. It’s for your own damn good.”

“That’s not what you want,” Leo replied stubbornly. “You just told me that.”

“And I didn’t lie,” Raph replied. “I want you, Leo. So fucking much. But I was told to stay away from you.”

“What? By who?” Before Raph could answer, it dawned on Leo anyway. There was only one who would say something like that. “Traximus?”

The emerald turtle nodded. “Don’t get mad at him, Leo. He had a point.”

Leo scowled. “What kind of point could he possibly have? I’m old enough to make my own damn decisions, just like you are.”

“I told you that he and I are part of a project, and you can’t get involved. It’s just..” Raph sighed wearily, “..it’s better this way. I’m sorry.”

A flash of silver caught his eye in the corner of the room. Raph stood and walked over, fingers grasping the metal trinket he’d snuck in for in the first place. Holding it tight within his hand, he walked passed Leo and out of the storage room without even a single glance back.


End file.
